


Jumper

by GalacticTwink



Series: Jumper + [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Autistic Evan Hansen, Bisexual Evan Hansen, Bonding over suicide, Connor is an artist, Deaf Character, Evan Hansen Deserves Happiness, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jewish Character, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, More tags to be added, Nude Modeling, POV Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Photography, Podfic Welcome, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Tags may contain spoilers, Trans Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Zoe Murphy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/GalacticTwink
Summary: “Can I?” he nods slightly, watching me cautiously as I lean down and swing one leg over the side followed by the other.“I, uh, I’m Evan.”“Connor.”Connor doesn't know why he's still alive. He's been this close to ending it for years, but right before he takes his plunge he finds another jumper there waiting for him. Evan is so bright and beautiful and full of life, and Connor can't bare the thought of those pretty blue eyes glazing over.And maybe in the middle of giving Evan something to live for, he'll find something for himself too. [Updates on Bi-Weekly(twice a month) Wednesdays]Title inspired by 'Jumper' by Third Eye Blind





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again, after my last deh fic I thought I was done but here's this one too! It's been a while but I guess that just means it'll be even better this time around! I'm having fun with Connor's pov- I'm on chapter 4 as of posting this.

  I step up to the last flight of stairs, each step making my head feel that much lighter; like climbing up the side of a mountain. It’s dizzying, my head spinning more than on the Gravitron at the fair. I’m excited. Every stair is one closer to the stars: one further from the ground and everything I’m leaving behind. I’m finished, I’m done. All the shit is beneath me now, and I don’t bother to even look down. I pause to look down at my hand, clenched tightly around the scrap of paper I carried here from home. I take the time to uncurl it, folding it neatly- without looking at its contents- and tucking it into the breast pocket of my shirt. I don’t need to be so tense.  
I stop in front of the door, pressing a steady hand to my chest. My heart thumps below the surface steadily, just like it always does. I’m totally calm. Hot, sticky air rolls over me when I open the door, rushing into the stairwell and blowing my hair just slightly. I step outside, closing the door behind me.

  The stars shine brightly above me, twinkling against the black evening sky. I don’t think I’ve been this close to them before, like I could reach out and touch them if I wanted. I try, stretching my arm over my head and uncurling my fingers skyward. A warm breeze blows through my fingers, pushing against my palm gently until I draw back.  
Summer is in full swing, the air heavy with moisture and thick with the smoke left behind by fireworks and camp fires. The city is lit up, windows filled with light that dulls in comparison to the expanse of sparks above it all. I reach into my shirt pocket, touching the paper folded to fit into the small space with my fingertips.

  Stepping out further, it’s light enough to see I’m not as alone as I thought I’d be out here. I can see the outline of a figure at the edge of the roof, sitting on the ledge and showing no signs of having noticed me. Well, I’m already here. I approach with caution, but the figure is smaller than me; narrow shouldered and at least a head shorter than I am judging by looks alone.

  Their head swerves to the side, body rocking unsteadily on the edge of the building with his sudden movement. I can see him better in the hazy light now, his powder blue shirt illuminated in the dark.

   “Hey,” I take another slow step forward, reaching out towards the ledge.

   “Can I?” he nods slightly, watching me cautiously as I lean down and swing one leg over the side followed by the other. My feet hang down further than his, my dark jeans blending into the lower light in the narrow alley beside the building. Light bounces off his glasses when he looks at me, square around his eyes and obstructing my view of part of his face. Though, they can’t veil how wide his pupils are blown. I think he’s shaking. I could do it anyway. But, he looks like a kid. Maybe I can go around to the other side, wait a minute, and then,

   “I, uh, I’m Evan.” he twists his arm awkwardly to hold his hand out towards me, fingers trembling. I pass on the handshake. What a place to meet a guy. At least I can’t tell if he’s cute.

   “Connor.” he takes his hand back, picking at the edges of the cast molded around his other arm. The pure white plaster stands out even against the guy’s pasty skin, the part facing me completely clean. Maybe it’s fresh. Maybe the kid just doesn’t have any friends.

   “Break your arm?” he side glances up to me, like he’s surprised I noticed.

   “Yeah.” he shrugs it off, casting his gaze up at the blanket of stars above us.

   “It’s so dark, I wish I’d gotten here during the day instead. I always wanted the last thing I see to be the sky, when it’s blue and clear; like Auguste Renoir.” I have to think about that one, classic art isn’t really my thing.

   “Saying only a clear sky is beautiful is almost like calling Starry Night ugly.” the corners of Evan’s mouth curl up, just slightly. He’s silent as he observes the sky, the light casting down on his face almost as brightly as the sun on an overcast day. Blame it on being a night owl, but I think people really look their most beautiful under the night sky. I wish I could take a picture.

   “Being up so high you can see it bend with the curve of the Earth, laid out in front of you so far in every direction that it’s all you can see. It peaks in the middle, but it feels like forever; like something’s holding you there in place, and that could just be the rest of your life.” he closes his eyes, sighing dreamily as if he can picture it.

   “Well, the sky’ll be blue again tomorrow.” Evan laughs bitterly. I should’ve guessed that you only come up here at this time of night for that. But still. My chest feels more unsettled than it did thinking of myself hitting the pavement; he’s just so small. And kids..

   “Did you write one?” I know I sure as hell didn’t when I was thirteen. Or fourteen or fifteen, to be fair. I didn’t give a shit, and I don’t know why I do now. He looks surprised I asked, like he didn’t think of it at all.  
“No. There’s no one to miss me anyway.”

   “No? Friends, family?”

   “Mom’ll be better off without me.” I look at him expectantly, making Evan sigh; rolling his eyes at me before he can go on. I glance down to his hands, now flat on the cement beside him, the tremble from earlier gone.

   “I don’t have any friends.” I look at him for a moment. I’m anti establishment purely because I can’t stand hypocrisy but..

   “Hey bold of you to assume I’m not your friend, kid. There’s one right here.” I tap him on the arm, not wanting to touch him too much and spook him. He turns and looks straight at me for the first time, eyes wide but pupils closer to their normal size.

   “But- you don’t know me!” my lips twitch up before I can help it, a laugh bubbling up from me and turning into a full breakout of laughter; a grin spreading across my face. I couldn’t say why, I just sat there and laughed until tears dripped down my face. Evan tries to bite his back, joining me to his own disdain. He places his left hand on my right, smiling at me even after we bring it back. I still can’t see much of his face, but the light from the stars over us reflects off the tear trails leading down his face just so- I can’t help but lift my hand to wipe them across his skin.

   “Your name is Evan, and you wear Axe cologne. I think that’s enough for me.” he must not have an argument for that, not saying anything in retaliation or otherwise.

   “Hey, let me sign your cast. They’ve got pens downstairs.” I’m tempted to hold my breath, watching Evan take another look down into the open air under our feet before nodding up at me.

   “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1262 
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!
> 
> If you want to check out my finished deh fic it's called Dear Connor Murphy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is So long, I thought about cutting it in half but just decided to leave it in one piece

   “I’m going out!” I shout over my shoulder before the door slams shut behind me, spinning my keys around my finger on my way out to the truck. I double check my bag in the front seat, which I should’ve done before I stormed out of the house, tucking it between the console and the stick shift for safe keeping with everything accounted for. I’m running a little late, but hopefully Evan doesn’t freak out.

  I narrowly miss the mailbox on my way out of the driveway, digging back through my bag again to find where I wrote down the address. I read off the whole thing to my google assistant and let the directions take me, leaning back in my seat and peering out the window. I’m not in this part of town often, the traffic disappearing a little more with every turn until I’m the only one on the road. Trees wall me on both sides, not thick forest but enough to block the sun from my eyes while I drive.

  To make up for time I’m a little heavy on the gas, pushing above the speed limit while no one’s around. I almost miss the turn into the driveway, tires squealing in protest of my slamming the break. I only need to back up for a second to make the turn. Gravel crunches under my tires, the treeline breaking in front of the grassy lawn set in front of the little house. Well, little might not be the word. I stop a ways down the drive and open my door, the incessant beeping sounding off as I grab my camera from my bag and lean out onto the help step to snap a picture of the house set in front of the landscape. I pull the picture from the side and wave it through the air while I drive up to the house, coming to a full stop just behind a blue car parked there already.

  Do I wait out here? My dates are usually sneaking out to see me. Woah there tiger, Evan never called it a date. I shoot him a text to let him know I’m here and sit back, tucking my new Polaroid into a pocket so it doesn’t get bent to hell hanging out in my bag all day.

  My incoming message invites me to come inside and wait, sending my stomach towards the floor. He really thinks I can have a passable conversation with an adult? I twist the keys from ignition and head in, pausing before the first knock. A woman at least a foot shorter than me answers the door, taking a full step back to look up at me in silence. And that’s the end of my date.

   “Oh! Connor?” I sort of wave at her, pressing my lips together in a semblance of a smile.

   “Evan’s always a slowpoke, why don’t you come on in?” for a such a small lady, she ushers me into the house with one shove. I pull the door shut behind me firmly, tucking both hands into my pockets. So she doesn’t think I’m going to swipe anything. And maybe to hide the outline of my pocket knife in my skinny jeans.

   “I’m so happy to meet you, Connor, Evan never has any of his friends over anymore. Do you want a drink, sweetie?” her ponytail swings behind her head while she moves, a flash of blonde with every enthusiastic motion to follow her words.

   “Uh, no thanks.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Evan’s mom insists I sit down, the love seat sinking beneath me and making my nose itch. I feel out of place in such a cozy place, the couches well loved and the coffee table covered with its fair share of mug rings. Heidi, as she introduced herself as, looks a lot like her son from what I can remember; though we didn’t spend much time anywhere well lit. The same stark blonde hair and soft, heart face shape. She’s not wearing makeup, her skin giving off that natural glow of a bare face and the purple tint under her eyes clear. I wish I could take a photo.

   “It’s so nice to know Evan is getting out of the house, you know. He does go out for his job, but he spends so much time pent up in his room- I worry about him.” I nod in agreement, folding and refolding my hands over my lap while I try not to fidget. The sleeves of my sweatshirt are already frayed, but I pick at them anyway for the relief of fucking doing something.

   “Mom,” I look up, a little startled to hear Evan’s soft voice projected so loudly down the stairs. I recognise the powder blue polo he was wearing the day we met, layered overtop a pale green long sleeved shirt that clings tightly to his arms as he takes the stairs two at a time.

   “I told you to send him up to my room!” he shifts in place at the bottom of the stairs, one hand still resting on the railing.

   “Oh, I just wanted to talk to your new friend for a while Evan. I didn’t say anything embarrassing, I promise.” Heidi smiles at him warmly, not seeming to ease his anxieties about having me held up with her.

   “Well,” I stand, “looks like we’re ready to head out. It was nice to meet you” I open the door for Evan, throwing a wave back at his mom before I shut it. I’m tempted to ask if he needs help getting in the truck, but I pass and just wait for him to get situated on his own.

   “Sorry, uh, I should’ve told, told you to wait out here.” oh, he’s nervous. Maybe we are on a date. Maybe he just doesn’t get out much.

   “It’s cool, trust me you don’t know bad until you’ve met my mom.” I pull around so I don’t have to back up the entire driveway, showing off my skill with the stick shift for Evan while he watches quietly. I keep to the speed limit while he’s here, the guy is already anxious enough without watching me speed.

   “Hey, can you dig out the bottle in my bag for me?” Evan looks from me to my bag, working that through his head before going through my bag. I can hear it rattling around but it takes him a minute to get his hands on it, holding it straight out towards me when he does.

   “Just two.” I stop at a light, holding out my hand and slamming down both white pills at once- no water. Which I hope looked cool, because it fucking hurt. Just because I can do that shit doesn’t mean I should. Evan is giving me a look.

   “Advil. You didn’t tell me you’ve got a cat.” it’s not a deathly allergy or anything, but I can’t live my life on the brink of needing to sneeze because I sat down in his living room.  He looks visibly relieved, letting the rest of the drive stretch on into a comfortable silence while I drive.  
I get us from one end of the city to the other, rolling down my window to let the fresh air flood into the cab for the rest of the drive. The lot doesn’t say much about where we are, the slightly off scent hanging in the air strangely refreshing. For me, at least.

   “Oh, can you swim?” maybe I should’ve asked earlier, but it doesn’t really matter that much. The undertow’ll get you even if you’re the strongest swimmer you know.

   “Yeah?” Evan looks around again, trying to place where I’m taking him as he trails along behind me through the parking lot. They’re not busy, a handful of cars parked up closer to the lake but at least a few of them are employees.

   “Looks like we’ll have the lake to ourselves. You can start gearing up while I go in if you want. Here, I brought a windbreaker for you.” I shift my bag to pull one of the jackets from the crook of my elbow and offer it to him. It’s not windy, but they are mostly waterproof in case we get sprayed. I give Evan my green one, leaving myself with the patchwork pink and blue one. I don’t mind.

   “Oh, and give me your phone. I’ve gotta sleeve it inside.” I hold out my hand. He stares at me.

   “So it doesn’t get wet.” he fishes his cell out of his pocket, fingers curled tightly around the screen like he’s going to say no. After some debate he hands it over, letting me bag it and grab the key for our boat. Evan got a life jacket and the windbreaker on without any problems, rocking on his heels while he waits for me to pull on my gear.

   “Alright, grab an oar and let’s go.” I wave him on, taking a paddle for myself and leading the way out to the dock.

   “Watch your step,” the ‘structure’ sways slightly with each step, but not enough to put me off balance. Though, I’m out once a week. I stretch both my arms out to my sides, walking steadily out while I count boats. I usually take the same one, but my regular doesn’t have enough room for two.

   “Alright,” I stop, “this should be-!” Evan grabs my arm with both hands. I flail, trying to snap my arm back but only pulling him closer to me. He trips, losing his balance on the moving surface and falling against my chest. My reflexes barely save us both from falling into the water, grabbing harshly at Evan’s shoulders and slowing his fall enough to keep myself upright through impact.

  I can feel Evan’s heart beating against my chest, pounding under his skin like he almost died. I give him a minute, hooking an arm around his waist to hold him up while he catches his breath. I don’t know what to do with my other hand, not really wanting to go in for a full hug but feeling weird to have it just hover. I press my palm gently against the middle of his back, patting him between the shoulder blades like a mother calming a child. Rather than shove me off in offense, Evan curls his arms around me; having trouble with his cast getting in the way but still managing to hug himself around me, burying his face into my chest.

   “You okay?” I find my voice, inclining my head down to speak softly. He nods, the small gesture moving my core and making the dock under us sway. I almost don’t want to ask if he’s ready to go, my heart tugging in my chest with him pressed so closely to me.

   “Just- give me a minute.” Evan’s voice is muffled by my jacket, hands gripping the nylon from the back and pressing me against him. And I can still feel him breathing, though much more steadily now as he regains his composure.

   “Okay,” he rights himself, “I’m ready.” he shifts his grip to the sleeve of my windbreaker, shuffling along for the last few paces down the dock. Now, if walking down the pier almost dumped both of us in the water… I look down at the boat, rocking with the ripples in the water.

   “Alright, do you want me to hold onto the boat or you?” Evan looks down, then soundly at me. I got the hint. Aright, the easiest way to do this..

   “Okay, here, give me your good hand. Hold out your other one for balance, don’t grab onto the boat until both your feet are already inside- you’ll tip it. Take your time and get the first foot in, then pull your other leg in faster so you don’t make it drift further away. I’ll help lower you down.” I let him take that in, looking down at his feet while he turns it over in his head to absorb the instructions. He nods when he’s ready, holding onto my hand tightly as he moves out to the edge.

  I can see his mouth moving, repeating my instructions back to himself silently. He lets out one heavy breath to steady himself before going for it, leaning his weight towards me and lifting his right foot towards the kayak. His motion is almost fluid, dropping his weight into the boat and curling himself in; tugging me along with him as he jumps. He makes it, both feet planted firmly inside, though he’s standing on the seat. It’s a start.

   “Awesome, that was great.” I smile for a second, giving Evan a beat to recover.

   “Alright, can you step down? You’re standing where you should be sitting down.” he does, legs visibly shaking. After one foot makes it down he flinches, thudding down into the boat and onto the seat ungracefully. But, he’s where he’s supposed to be. I hand in both our paddles and tell him to hold on tight.

  I don’t have anyone to hold on to, but I’m out in the water by myself more than I’ll admit. I take two steps back and get a semblance of a running start, pushing off on the second step and leaping from the pier into the kayak. The boat sways under me but doesn’t tip, letting me comfortably sit down and take an oar from Evan, who’s looking at me with his mouth wide open.

   “Well, you ready?”

   “I’m ready.” Evan nods firmly, releasing an oar to me and looking his up and down. I click open my pocket knife, cutting us loose so we can get going. I get extra time on the water, but I should still get Evan home at a decent time.

   “I’ll shove us off, then you paddle straight towards me.” he nails that one, picking up the slack while I get my knife tucked away. I swing my legs around to face away from Evan, glancing out at the water to find the spot I’m looking for. I lead Evan around the long way, guiding him along the middle of the lake rather than sticking to the sides. The water is deeper and there’s nothing to catch on our paddles, letting the boat pick up some speed and glide along the gentle current. I’m getting a nice mist, clinging to my skin where my windbreaker isn’t protecting me; namely on my face.

   “Okay, wait,” the boat coasts after we both stop rowing, tilting slightly as I move around and turn to face Evan again. I’ll know when we’re there. The sun is almost glaring off him, from his fair skin to his blonde hair. He’s squinting at me, a hand held up to shade his eyes from the sun. I discard my oar once it’s cleared the side of the boat, grabbing at my bag to grab for my camera.

   “No, hold that,” I snap one before Evan gets the change to move, waving the Polaroid through the air to make sure I caught what I wanted. Perfect. I’ll have to sketch it late, I didn’t bring a book.

   “What’s that look for?” I quirk an eyebrow at the way Evan is looking at me, tucking the photo into my bag along with my camera. He laughs. Not a I’m-having-fun laugh, more like an I-have-no-idea-what-to-say nervous tic.

   “N, uh, Nothing I just,” he gestures around us, “I don’t know you. I-I, what I mean is-” he trips over his words, like he’s trying to talk over himself just to get them out faster.

   “I, uh, I, I meant that we just met. I-I don’t really know you, y’know?” he fiddles with his hands, digging his nails into his cuticles and scratching the skin near his nail beds. I don’t know what to do with this. We’ve been talking almost every day since we met almost a month ago and Evan was the one who insisted we should see each other again in person.  I stare at him, which doesn’t do much for his nerves.

   “I mean, I know you but I don’t know you- I don’t know that much about you. We, we only met a few weeks ago on the roof of a building and now I’m out in the, in the middle of nowhere with you and for all I know you could be a serial murderer or something and kill me.” I don’t think he took a single breath through that, pushing one word out after the other almost too quickly for me to follow.

   “Uh,” I’m drawing a blank. Is he having an anxiety attack or something? I reach forward but decide against it halfway, dropping my hand back to my knee before I touch him. Alright, I made him freak out, what did I do? I took his picture.

   “Hey- I’m not gonna kill you or anything. Do you- want your picture? I took it cuz I thought you looked pretty, I wanted to draw you later.” I hold the Polaroid straight out in front of me, the plastic wobbling in the air along with my trembling hand. Evan looks at me again, eyes flickering between making contact with mine and my hand, watching my fingers shake. He licks his lips, his own hand unsettlingly steady as he takes the photo from me to look at. He’s still now, eyes focused on the image of himself. The corners of his lips drop, coming close to a scowl.

   “It, it’s not a trophy or anything before I drown you in the lake. I just wanted to-” “-to draw me?” Evan’s head falls to a tilt, the tips of his hair brushing against his shoulder. I twist around, paddling a few times to get us moving again while Evan.. does his thing.

   “Do you go to school around here? Or, did you go to high school here?” great. I meet a guy moments before I was going to kill myself and he goes to school with me. I might as well turn us around now.

   “Yeah, I’m in high school here.” Evan does a double take.

   “Didn’t you tell me you’re nineteen?” so I got held back, lots of people do. It’s no big deal. Something brushes against me from behind, sliding across my back and over my shoulder; dropping into my lap. We’re finally here. I give the leaves on me a gentle toss, holding out my hand to take another and let it gently pull away from me.

   “We’re here.” I let a relaxed smile settle on my lips, my eyes flickering shut as the cooler air washes over me. The shade is at least five degrees cooler than the air temperature, shielding us from the sun under the tallest weeping willow I’ve ever seen; more dotting the shore on either side of the larger one. A setting that’s frequented in my artwork since I was a kid and will stay there until the day I kill myself.

  Evan looks up, searching for the top of my tree as we coast towards it. The sun glare on his face fades, his crystal blue eyes fixed straight up over my head; strands of leaves from the willow carpeting behind him. I itch to make the moment last longer, risking to snap another picture while he’s not looking. He glances back to me but is more concerned with our surroundings, leaning over the side of the kayak to brush his fingers along the passing tendrils of soft leaves.

   “Pretty, isn’t it? It’s like my own little corner of the world.” if we pulled up far enough, we’d be able to see where I carved my name into the biggest willow tree, declaring the space ‘Connor’s Cove’ in my child-level carving skill. I don’t have the heart to re-do it, there’s something wistful about the way it is now.

  I’ve thought about killing myself here, almost every time I visit, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I’ve come ready, but the hush over the water and the sway of the trees makes me feel so at peace. Even if I could do it, I don’t think I could ruin the cove like that.

   “Wow,” Evan breathes, tucking back into the boat to look at me again.

   “It’s beautiful.” he smiles at me, flashing me his teeth for the first time, and something tugs inside my chest. I think this is going to end badly, but for now, it feels so fucking good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/3441
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm not having this Chicago weather

  I take a hard left, just to watch Zoe once again pick up her bag from the floor. She tucks her hair back behind her ear, the straightened mess starting to frizz after getting thrown around so much.

   “Ugh, Connor! Could you not act like a crazy person for five minutes!” I press onto the gas, just a little, to prove a point.

   “Flaunt what you’ve got _sis_ , you should try it. Act’s only good for so long before they know you’re just as fucked up as I am.” I turn a hard right, looping back up into Evan’s driveway without slowing down. The ride is no less bumpy, The sun glaring straight through the windshield the whole way down. But, the reds of first light are almost pretty enough to make up for almost going blind. Almost.

   “Get out.” I stop, clearing my shit off the middle seat and unlocking the doors.

   “What?”

   “Get out, you’re not sitting next to me.” she clears out, pouting next to the truck like a brat. I see Evan leave the house, waving back at his mom twice on his way out. That shouldn’t be as cute as I think it is. He pops the door but hesitates outside, head tilted off to look at Zoe. “Don’t mind her Evan, she’s just pouting. Climb on in.” I jerk my head, beckoning him into the truck to sit next to me.

  He’s wearing a jacket, a white sweatshirt rolled up over his cast on one side. My name is still the only thing breaking up the surface of the white plaster, the end of his black shirt poking out in the bundle of fabric at his elbow. Zoe puts as much distance between her and Evan as she can, leaning her elbow on the window like a child who lost an argument.

   “Ready to go?” I nudge Evan, waiting for him to pull his belt on and situate himself with his backpack resting on his lap; taking up as little space as he can without taking off a limb.

   “We better be- Connor I’m gonna be late for practice.”

   “Well, then maybe you should find someone else to drive you to school.” I maneuver around for a minute so I don’t have to back down the whole driveway, catching Evan’s eye for a second while he looks between me and Zoe. “Evan this is my bitch of a sister if you don’t know her. And trust me, that makes you a lucky man.”

   “Uh, no, you’re in jazz band aren’t you?” he said that with too much confidence to be a guess. Oh well. I take the road a little slower, ticking over the limit by no more than five to keep Evan from having a heart attack on the way. He’s sitting closer to me than he needs to, my arm brushing against him with every turn of the wheel. My sister probably flashed him her bitch face- It’s like her face just got stuck like that. She tears out of the car the moment I stop, slamming the door behind her and leaving me with Evan in silence.

   “Sisters, right? Don’t take it personally, she’s a bitch. If she wasn’t mom’s perfect princess I’d’ve killed her by now.” I chuckle, leaning over Evan to find my parking pass to hang on the rear view mirror. “Let’s roll.” I take both our bags, pushing him on ahead of me to get inside first. We’re not late, but if he doesn’t move his ass he might be. His teachers are going to hate him because he’s a junior already, he doesn’t need to be late on the first day.

   “Bust ass, get to class.” I toss Evan’s backpack at him, which he manages to just barely catch.

   “What, what class are you going to?” I snort.

   “I’ll be in the art hall.” I start off in that direction, waving back to him without turning.

   “Wai- all day?” I don’t answer, getting into the room right as the bell sounds. That gives me time to set up my studio, ie a storage room Chris isn’t using, while the class stands for the pledge. I don’t believe in cults, personally. Bad shit. I’m just here to paint until corporate kicks me out; and this is a public school so we’re all just waiting for my birthday that’s one too many. If I get there.

  All my shit is still here, mostly untouched but they did clean the place. In retrospect, maybe I should’ve taken my figure drawing home with me; but where am I going to store portraits of nude men on canvas half the size of my body?

  I set up on my table, made out of two desks that wobble too much to keep in the classroom, unloading my Polaroids and pinning them up for the time being. And, I get to drawing. Pencil first, heavy and smudged across the page but getting the message across. My thumbnail is always more detailed than it needs to be, call it the curse of going from memory. Or, being a perfectionist.

  Background is always first, mostly dark blues and dusty grays to contrast from the bright yellow I dot across the top of the canvas; the spread of stars in the sky in my rough interpretation. Those’ll need more work, but that’s good for now. Acrylics dry fast enough for me to start sketching in decent time, using a white chalk pencil that shows up and at least mostly rubs off if I fuck up too badly. I’m a decent way into the piece when someone opens my door.

  Evan shuffles in, peering into the room like he’s waiting for permission to come in. He at least closes it behind him, standing to stare at my studio in silence. The sheer amount of dicks I have painted in here keeps most people out of my space, and the photos hanging from the ceiling screams serial killer enough to get anyone else out pretty damn fast.

   “Welcome to my closet.” I put down my brush, grabbing Evan’s attention enough for him to look at me. He almost looks impressed.

   “Hey.” he takes the seat next to me, peering over my shoulder at what I’m working on. “Is that me?” half the thing is gray but he can still tell it’s him? This is why I don’t trust people with 20/20 vision.

   “Yeah, I guess it is.” I let him watch, picking up where I left off and falling back into my zone quickly. He’s quiet, so I don’t mind if he sticks around for a few, but.. “So what brings you to my studio at,” I look up, “noon?” Evan glances off to the side.

   “I, uh, left class?” well, I can’t argue with that. I give him that, going on with what I’m doing to let him think about it. I’ve been in therapy for long enough to know pressing the issue just makes people cry. I have to mix the color for his eyes, brighter than anything else on the canvas- like they’re glowing.

   “Can you grab me another cup of water?” If he’s hanging around, I might as well not have to leave for fresh dipping water. Well, I usually wouldn’t leave and just use the dirty water until it starts making the paint tint gray. Evan takes my cup and scurries out of the room, leaving me to detail the eyes in peace; though without the real thing as a model. The streaks of darker blue break up the pastel I used for the base and connect them with the rest of the darker colors around them. There should be a shadow there, but I can’t bring myself to dilute the blue.

  Evan comes back into my room misty eyed, my mug in one hand and the other still wiping tears from his face. I get up and take the cup, setting it down to exchange with a hopefully unused paper towel. I smear paint on his face trying to help wipe up the fresh tears rolling down his cheek, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder before giving up and just pulling Evan up to me. The little guy is shaking like a leaf, and I just spread more paint onto him trying to give him a pat on the back.

   “Hey, hey, what happened on your way from here to the sink?” he shakes his head pushing my chest and putting me back a step away from him. Yeah, that’s cool, I was just trying to.. not stand around and watch the guy cry.

   “N- I don’t know. I was just, and then..” Evan swipes the back of his hand across his face, taking a deep breath to try and chill himself out. “I’m, I’m okay. I just.” he waves his hand, summing up the situation with the frazzled gesture.

   “It’s alright, come on,” I lead him back over to sit down before he falls over. There’s only like, two hours left in the day, he can just stay here. I skip all my classes, so he’s already doing better than I am. I’m doing finishing touches while he watches over my shoulder, dotting the shine in his eyes and a soft halo around the stars. Until everything is totally dried down that’s probably all I can do for now. And at.. half past two I need to call it quits for today anyways.

   “You ready to go? I can take you home now if you want.” it’s been years since I’ve spent a full day at school. Pretty much since I could drive; Zoe can walk for all I really care. She has practice after school anyway, according to her. “Come on, I’ll pack up here and you can go out to the truck.” I give Evan my keys and both our bags so he can go, his eyes still a little puffy after his well earned cry earlier. He trudges out of the room without saying anything to me, but that’s fine. He just needs to go home. I switch on a fan so everything is dry in the morning and head out, both hands still covered in paint and maybe a little in my hair too. What’s curly hair if it’s not full of random shit? Evan is waiting for me out in the hallway.

   “-fairy? You finally find an art bitch desperate enough to fuck you?” some guy in a hoodie barely a few inches taller than Evan is crowding him. He couldn’t think of a better insult than fairy? It’s almost a compliment at this point.

  I drag him back by his jacket, caulking an eyebrow down at him just to watch the smug look melt off his face. He scrambles off down the hall, pulling out of his sweatshirt and leaving it with me. This is why a power imbalance is one of the legs of the stool, I doubt he could’ve pushed Evan over let alone me. I leave the jacket and throw an arm around Evan.

   “Damn, I wanted to punch him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1859
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!
> 
> I rewrote this chapter a few times, but I completely redid the end at least 3 times on its own to get it just right

  I ring the doorbell, checking back with the text Evan sent to make sure I’m here at the right time even though I checked when I left the house. And in the car when I got here, just to make sure. He answers the door, looking up at me with that little smile of his.

   “Hey Connor! Come on in, uh, we’re watching a movie.” we? He said it like the movie is already on, did he just start without me?

   “I swear, I didn’t order a pizza! I just- oh, hey freak.” there’s already a ginger spread out on the couch, the whole bowl of popcorn in his lap and a swipe of the butter grease from it across his face.

   “Back at you.” I’ve probably seen the guy before, his face is as familiar as it is begging for me to punch him; which is to say very. I honestly didn’t know Evan had any other friends.

   “Oh, Jared this is-” “Connor Murphy. What, you think I don’t know the local crazy when I see him? You might live under a rock, Evan, but I don’t.” he swings his legs off the arm of the couch to get up, sizing me up even if he has to crane his neck to do it. He has a cocky look set on his face, like he’s got everything figured out and he’s just waiting to catch me off guard.

   “Kleinman?” I can place him now, his confidence wavering for a second. “You’re Leah’s kid aren’t you?” his face drops, fumbling for a comeback but not coming up with anything to throw back into my face. After juvie guys like this are easy.

   “Wh- what are you, a stalker?” Jared spits back, his delivery off now that he’s flustered.

   “Y’know, there’s only one temple in town.” I leave him with that, inviting myself to take a seat in the living room with Evan; snagging the popcorn for myself. I hate popcorn, but it’s the principal of the thing. Evan is at least a fan, dipping into the bowl while he settles back into focusing on the movie playing.

   “What’s playing tonight?”

   “Star Trek.” looks like one of the more recent ones. 2009 is better, but he won’t catch me complaining. No matter what movie it is, Chris Pine is hot enough to carry the whole thing just being there.

  I relent after a while, passing the bowl to Evan to wipe off my hands and dig through my bag. Not that I’m board, but I am. I find glass, pulling my bottle from its pocket and popping it open. Cristine  would be dissapointed in me for committing a cardinal sin of nail polish, but I never bother to take off the old shit before I slather on more. It’s the same color, why should I bother? I spread my fingers on the arm of the couch and glance between the polish job and the movie, attracting Evan’s attention sometime between the two.

   “What are you doing?” his whisper is harsh, a little too loud for already leaning towards me to peer at my hands. It’s self explanatory, so I don’t bother to say anything. Evan is still watching when I finish my right hand, pausing to blow across my nails before I start making a mess of my other hand. I flash the nail job at him, his head tilting to look like it’s something new to him. Has he never looked down when he’s talking to a girl, or a gay man? Or me?

  My quick dry comes through and I can get straight to my other hand, the brush shaking as I struggle to control the hand I don’t use for pretty much anything but this. I shake it off to dry a little faster, wrist caught in Evan’s grip before I can tuck the bottle back into my bag.

   “Can you, uh, do mine, mine too?” huh, I didn’t pin him as the type. I guess he’s twink enough, but black polish is more in the emo pool here.

   “This is the only color I’ve got.” he nods enthusiastically, exaggerating the expression almost enough to make my head spin.

   “Yeah, yeah, alright. Hold still.” Evan squirms for a second before settling down, holding his hand straight out towards me. That’s not good for anyone. I take him by the wrist, splaying his fingers across my thigh for an at least mostly flat surface. I let my attention flicker between Star Trek and Evan, though his nails aren’t as rounded and nice for the brush to slide over.

  I do both his hands, twisting his body towards me for his right hand and squishing my shoulder against Evan’s for a better angle. His look objectively better than mine, since I got to use my good hand for both of them. Once they’re dry I let him go to look at them, holding both hands in front of his face and wiggling his fingers. It’s kinda cute.

  He leaves me alone to watch the movie, his shoulder still pressed to mine. He nestles against me, pushing further against me until I move my arm so he can lean comfortably into my side; leaving me nowhere but his shoulder to rest my arm. Evan’s head falls to my shoulder, hair brushing against the skin on my neck just enough to make me shiver. God I’m glad I’m not into chicks, I couldn’t stand their hair on me all the time; mine is enough.

  But Evan is warm and his breathing is steady on my side, my own head tilting against his as I’m lulled off to sleep with the steady beat of Evan’s heart. I let my eyes just fall closed, relaxing against the warm body pressed to mine- I jump back, muscles tightening like a startled cat. My heart thuds against my chest, like I’ve never heard a doorbell before. That’s all it was, but I feel like I was interrupted; like when you walk into a room and you know you almost walked in on someone having sex but your sister won’t give it up so you just have that lingering feeling of awkwardness.

  Evan takes a minute to look shell shocked, staring off at the door like he barely registered what the sound was. The bell rings again, signaling that whoever’s at the door is a huge asshole. Who rings the doorbell twice?

  Jared hasn’t moved, eyes down on his phone like he hadn’t heard the bell at all. And I think he didn’t, if the hearing aides on the table are his. Alright, fine then. I get up and open the door, half expecting it to be that pizza Jared swore he didn’t order before I got here. Instead I open the door to a very short, very pissed looking Jewish woman. She almost gets started on me, before she actually catches sight of me.

   “Oh- Connor?” her straightened hair frizzes up when she pushes it from her face, looking up at me with surprise. “How have you been? I wasn’t expecting- it’s been such a long time.” she holds out her hand and I take it, giving her as much of a smile as I really can. “You know Evan?” she tries to peer into the house behind me but can’t quite see past me, but I get the hint.

   “Yeah I do, we-” “Is my son in there with you boys?” and there it is. I think about it, tapping my fingertip against the side of my mouth and making as much of a show about it as I can.

   “Jared? No, I don’t think so.” I step back so I can close the door, which is of course when I hear Jared behind me, asking who’s at the door. I try to cover a guy’s ass.. I turn towards him, giving the guy a pitying look as I raise one hand and tap my thumb to my chin, the rest of my fingers spread out. He groans out loud. He comes to accept his fate, leaving me standing at the door after his mother pulls him outside.

  I hover for a second, listening to Leah dig into him, until Evan interrupts me with a hand on the shoulder.

   “Can we..?” he shifts in place, twisting his hands together uncomfortably. I nod, following him up the stairs; a part of the house I haven’t seen before. It’s not much different, the same carpet as downstairs lining the floor of the much smaller area. Evan’s bedroom door is decorated with his name, the carpet continuing into his room when he opens the door for me.

   “Guess it’s just us.” Evan raises a brow at me, laughing. “I guess so.” and that’s that. I stand by the door, not sure if I should sit with Evan on his bed or not, while neither of us say anything. Awesome, it’s a party.

   “Oh yeah, I forgot,” I flip open my bag, digging through for a smaller bag inside it, “I already did your nails, but I brought these over for you.” Now that I have a purpose I don’t feel weird about sitting with him, plopping down on the bed and unzipping my paint bag; the zipper catching on dots of paint I’ve spilled on the track. My name is still the only one on his cast, the rest pristine white like it was the day we met. Jared didn’t even sign it while he was here?

   “You were watching me paint the other day, I thought I could do something on your cast. So it isn’t empty.” he peers into my bag, watching me dig my small palette then just dumping all the bottles of paint out anyway. I already have an idea, but I’ll have to see.

  Evan holds out his arm, holding still while I move him around to get the size of the cast in mind. Yeah, that’ll work.

  I start with a layer of navy blue, then a little black swirled in to give the bottom layer some dark spots; gotta keep it interesting. That doesn’t necessarily need to dry, but I do give it a minute while I get my next color ready, dipping straight in with the same brush to swirl yellow into the blue; circling a sun into a dryer patch when I can.

  Evan is impressively still while I make a mess, Swooping and swirling color onto his cast; getting every color of the rainbow in there easily in some semblance of the right order. The yellow is faded into the background, adding a glow around the color layered overtop. My end result is nothing short of a gay starry night. Evan turns his arm to look at it, a smile cracking onto his face and turning into a grin as he sees more of the piece. One of my better ones, especially with the curve of his arm.

  The acrylics dry pretty fast, but there’s a lot of paint there so It’ll take a few to really be set. I can still get in my last touch though, on the bit I haven’t touched since I painted it on, pulling out a black sharpie and signing my name on the yellow sun. Evan takes a look at that too, dragging his fingers across my name.

   “It’s so pretty.” he says at last, making me smile. “I guess art does imitate life, huh?” he’s looking at me now, teeth digging into his bottom lip. I don’t know what to say. Evan tilts closer to me, his cast still in my hand as he leans in; other hand reaching out to lay on my leg for balance. He gets close enough to see his eyelashes as they flutter closed, taking my staying still as an invitation to go in for the kiss.

   “I uh-” I swallow, moving sharply and letting go of Evan’s arm to get up, “I need to clean out my brush,” I take three steps back before I turn around, trying to shake the wide eyed look of surprise Evan had on his face out of my head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/2031
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the final outline for this fic in for 18 or 19 chapters with a few tweaks still left to do in some of the later ones; I'll update the chapter/? with how many it's going to be when I know 100%

  I kick Zoe out of the truck at the door, shouting for her to close the door as she storms out. She acts like being late is the end of the world, she only missed one stupid practice; and I’m still not convinced she actually goes to those. I haven’t caught her yet but I just know she has a girlfriend she hasn’t told our parents about.   
  But, we are late for school now. It’s the first time since the term started, so it was bound to happen eventually. This is a record though. Zoe can be late for all I care, and I don’t go to class four days in the week but..

   “I’ll write you a note or something if you need one.” Evan looks up from his bag, hand pausing midway into reaching for something inside.

   “That’s okay, I don’t need one.” I’d usually push- my forgery is pretty good- but we can save that for another time. Evan Is wearing his jacket rolled up over his cast, displaying it clearly. Though, there aren’t many heads to turn in the hall with everyone already in class.

   “Can I take you to class? It’s Wednesday so I’m not going.” he shakes his head again, starting to tell me something but snapping his head to the side when his eye catches someone else walking. I can tell he’s nervous in the empty hall, sticking close to my side. The art hall is pretty much a dead end, he’ll have to go back the way we came to go anywhere from here; but I appreciate the escort.

   “Well,” I turn in front of the door, holding out my hand for Evan. He takes it instead of giving me a high five, not even shaking it really. “See you later?” he tilts his head to the side, squinting at me.

   “I uh, thought I could hang out here?” huh, maybe I am a bad influence.

   “Come on in.” class is in session, most of the kids sitting around with a cell phone in their lap half hardheartedly pretending to be working. I feel that, first class is rough. Everything is where I left it, the paint from yesterday dried down enough to set the page aside. It wasn’t a great art day, but I got something out so I didn’t waste the time. I stare at the ceiling. I’d rather hit my head against the wall than sit and do nothing, but I don’t see the point of doing something just to do it. Why put the time into something that doesn’t mean anything? I bite my lip, leaning over the desk to pull up a smaller canvas to start sketching on.  

   “Can I look at this?” I look up. Evan is holding my sketchbook with both hands, eyes cast up at me. I usually keep that for myself, I keep personal shit in there. Y’know, I do big pieces for myself too but they’re meant to be seen. The spine on the poor book has tape across it, the rest of both its covers coated in stickers of various logos and characters in different art styles.

   “Go for it.” I look back down at what I’m doing, but I can hear him turn every page next to me. I know most of the shit in the front by heart, the edges of those pages worn from how often I flip through them. Not that any of them are that great, but it’s the closest thing to going back in time I can get. I can look at a sketch and still remember drawing it, pencil tips breaking on the paper because they couldn’t get out the slush of how I felt fast enough sometimes. My eyes glaze over, going out of focus and letting my hand go into autopilot, sketching out the familiar form without putting much thought into it.

   “Who’s this?” Evan tilts my sketchbook towards me, the lines on the pages still blurred out for a second. There’s a color photograph taped to the page, a child with a cityscape in the background. The next page has a recent photo, taken at the park. Both are filled with sketched forms in various poses, the hair on each long and tightly curled.

   “That’s Zoe.” he looks at the book again.

   “Oh, so this one is her and this one is you?”

   “No, they’re both Zoe.” she can’t be older than eight in the first picture, one little hand grasped around the string of a balloon and the other holding tightly onto a child’s soccer metal she’d won. It’s only participation, but she’s still glowing with pride. And sweat. Her hair is matted down, natural curls sticking up at the side and clinging to her grass stained uniform. I took that one, but I’ve cropped out both our parents since then.   
  The other photo I didn’t take, a bright smile on my sister’s face that I haven’t seen in person in years. Her straightened hair is a half halo around her, in the middle of spinning around when the picture was taken, the same effect on the long dress she’s wearing. I snagged the homecoming picture from one of her friend’s Instagram pages.

   “This is you.” Evan insists, tapping the soccer photo again. “This is a boy’s soccer team uniform.” I hum in confirmation, taking my attention back to what I’m doing. He moves on, the constant flipping slowing enough for me to focus on the scratch of pencil against canvas; moving on from the outline of the body to the long streaks jutting out of it. Do I have enough black paint to finish this? I used a lot on the rooftop painting and I haven’t picked up more since. I’ll add it to the list anyway, I but the shit in pints but I always need more.

   “Is this Jared?” he skips over all the pages of him but asks about that one? Figures. I did the full version of that one at home, but the sketch is pretty sick. I set aside what I’m working on to take the book from Evan, turning it to see the full two page spread.

   “Yeah, that’s him.” there’s color notes along the edges, scribbled out and rewritten several times until it was right, complete with some final swatches I did on the page. The whole piece is him, with only a spiral of music notes around him to compliment his frame; as close to life proportions as I could get, save for the long wings extending from his back.

   “The one on canvas is more finished.” his wings are down turned, like he’s dropping down rather than flying up, to make room for the script written across the page- beginning on one side and ending on the other, cutting off at the ears as if the words are going through him. I was proud of this one, maybe I’ll have to show it to Jared sometime. That’s the last page in my sketchbook with anything on it, though Evan flips through the empty pages just in case before setting it back down where he found it.   
I can feel him looking over my shoulder, not lingering for too long before scanning the rest of my studio again. He’s been in here plenty of times, but there’s a lot to look at. I cover some of my still life pieces, but only lightly. Think a mini sticky note. Only one, I don’t believe in breast censoring.

   “Hey Connor,” I glance up at him, but Evan isn’t looking at me; his gaze fixed out in the room. “could you.. draw me sometime?” I have pages of sketches of him in and out of my sketchbook, hell he sat and watched me paint a whole portrait of him.. I follow Evan’s eyes, turning my head to find where he’s looking. My collection of still life drawings, all posed or photographed nude for my reference.

   “Uh,” people have asked before, but not quite like.. that. I mean, that’s an equivalent to calling himself a french girl here. So, I should say no. I can’t back out from a kiss then tell the guy I’ll stare at him naked for three hours. “sure, yeah. I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1383
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild drug warning on this chap, he's smoking for like 2 seconds but is more relaxed than high

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter officially pushed the fic over 10k words! The last one was so close but just missed it

    “So I should come in through the front door.” Evan asks again, from the passenger seat of his mother’s car. I’d be surprised if she lets him get out of the car at this rate. 

    “For the love of god, no. My window is open, if you come to the front I’m not letting you in.” I hang up on him, leaving him to figure it out. At least I’m not on the second floor like Evan; getting into his room would be a nightmare if his mother was ever home, or cared. I take a drag, breathing out the smoke and watching it swirl up around my ceiling light. The light is a little hazy, but I can’t see if it’s from the smoke or because I don’t have my contacts in.    
  I hear something rustle outside, not subtly digging through the bushes outside my window. Evan hoists himself up, scrambling to pull himself up without the strength of both arms. Maybe I should get up and give him a hand. I don’t. He manages to get in, falling onto my floor ungracefully. There’s leaves in his hair and the hood of his jacket, both sleeves rolled down over his hands. 

    “Are, are you sure I’m supposed to..” Evan looks up at me, gaze skittering away again, “be here?” he finishes, looking squarely down at the floor. Like he’s never seen me at home before. Well, he hasn’t, but that’s not the point. I laugh, holding my hand out towards Evan for him to take. When he does, starting to pull up on me, I tug him down to join me on the floor. 

    “I’m barely supposed to be here.” Evan eyes me up, his eyebrows pinched together in thought. “What?”

    “N, uh, nothing! You’re just so… relaxed.” yeah, that’ll do it. He shouldn’t get used to it, I can’t always be medicated up like this. I stretch, pushing both my arms up as high up they can go and holding it for a second. It’s hot in here, even with the window open, Evan is probably boiling in his jacket plus the layers he usually wears. 

    “Aren’t you hot?” he chokes, squeaking at me to say that again for him. “It’s hot in here, take off your jacket before you boil in it.” he thinks about it, looking at me for a second before unzipping his hoodie and pulling it off; getting hung up for a second on the bulk of his cast. He’s still wearing two shirts, both green today, but that’ll at least help him a little bit. I know if I’m hot in a tank and boxers he can’t be doing any better. 

    “Uh, you said it was important that I came over? What do you need?” he glances around, like he’s expecting to see a body I need him to help hide. Maybe another day, but I didn’t murder anyone tonight. 

    “I need you to do my homework.”

    “Connor I’m a year below you.” I raise an eyebrow at him. Like that means I’m more intelligent than him. He grabs my bag, ruffling through it to find where I stash the pile of unfinished work. Some of it is half done, which is better than I usually do. Evan starts on it silently, leaving me to fill the air with smoke; which he passes on joining in on. 

    “How’d you break your arm? No bullshit ‘I fell’.” he doesn’t look up, shrugging. 

    “Climbed up to the top of a tree and jumped down. I still reached out to catch myself, even though I didn’t want to make it past hitting the ground anyway.” he flips the page he’s on, finding half the page filled up with doodles and drawings from when I was in class. I do that when I’m nervous, or frustrated, or feeling anything really. The sketches are heavy and dark, which means I was probably upset the day I drew them. 

    “When I woke up on the ground, I laid there for a while. Waiting for someone to walk by and find me. I had to get a Lyft to the hospital.” Evan doesn’t sound sad, just dejected. But somehow that’s worse. It’s offputting to see him look so reserved when he’s usually so vibrant, always peeking over my shoulder and asking questions. He didn’t say a word about my room when he got here. 

    “Are you okay?” he looks up this time, making full eye contact with me before shying away from it. “I mean it’s still broken but-” “Not your arm.” he sighs, licking his lips absently. “Am I that obvious?” Evan leans back, looking up at my ceiling and scanning the acrylics up there; caulking his head to the side. 

    “How did you paint up there?” I snort. It took at least a month to finish the ceiling, and it was still long, hard, and probably gave me a back or neck injury. But it was so worth all the paint I got in my hair. The whole thing is powder blue, with darker blue highlights all through the paint job and white clouds layered on top; silver painted lightly over the white so they’re bright but still puffy looking. All the clouds have a gold outline that spreads out around the cloud to fade into the blue for a more artsy feel. Plus, the sky wouldn’t be the sky without a few rainbows streaking through it. I’ve painted and repainted most of the walls in here, but I haven’t touched the ceiling since I finished it. 

    “A ladder, a shower cap, and about a month.” he swivels, taking in the rest of the room. Almost every inch is covered with something, even the inside of my full closet. 

    “Why is that spot empty?” I turn, but I already know what he’s looking at. The area outlining my bed is painted completely black from baseboard to ceiling, nothing else on the space to break up the dark paint. I shrug. I even put grey over the clouds above my bed, not covering them but making them stormy to fit me. 

    “I don’t deserve to have anything around me.” Evan pushes me. “What?” he gives me a look of exasperation. 

    “Don’t say that, you’ve gotta put something there.” I wouldn’t know where to start. That’s been blank since we moved in years ago, I don’t have anything to put there. I just stare at the blank space. It reflects me too well, sucking in all the light from the room to make that corner darker than the others. It suits me.

    “You were in my room the other day right? It hasn’t looked like that for long. The only thing well kept in there were my plants, everything else was dusty, dirty, or covered with stuff; I didn’t clean my room for months at a time, I didn’t even wash my bedsheets.” I look at him. Is this the same Evan I’ve been hanging out with? Something about his demeanor is different, the way he’s speaking to me, the way he’s holding himself tilted completely towards me. It reminds me a little of myself when I talk to him, pushing the self care onto him. I might have coaxed him off the roof, but gentility isn’t my forte and that must be contagious. 

    “But it was clean when you were there, because I picked it up. I might not be able to sort myself out, but at least I could get my actual shit together. It’s a start.” he looks up at the abyss swallowing up my bed. “You can’t heal in the same environment that made you sick. Every other inch of this place is you trying to cope, so why not here?”

    “What got into you?” sounds like something my therapist would say, but oddly more effective. The little look of determination set on his face, his gaze flicking up to meet mine every once and a while. He is so dead set on this, on helping me even in the smallest way. 

    “It’s what you do for me.” his eyes soften, reaching out and wrapping his good hand gently around my wrist. Is it? I just.. want to help him. Is it really making that much of a difference? “Let me help you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1388
> 
> This feels a little short/transitional but I'm super excited to post the next chapter next week! A lot of it was originally part of this one but I thought this was a good place to end it off since it got a little heavy
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love how this chapter turned out

  Evan doesn’t give me time to think about it too much. He shoves my sketchbook against my chest and hands me a paintbrush. He does flip through it with me for a minute, suggesting sketches I could put up on the wall and saying no to pretty much all the ones I picked. 

   “You keep picking ones without you in them!” that’s the point. I don’t have a single portrait of myself up on the wall. I don’t want to stare at myself. 

   “Here, do this one.” Evan turns the book towards me, open to a full two page portrait of myself that I didn’t finish drawing. I don’t think I want to argue with him, so I guess I can do this one. I won’t bother with finishing the one on paper, taking one of my chalk pencils and climbing up onto the bed to start. 

   “Wait, don’t use that one. Take the other wall.” I wanted the smaller space over the head of my bed, but Evan shoos me away to the bigger stretch of black. Alright, less up and down and more wide space. I’ll just improvise a little. If ‘a little’ means basically the entire thing. 

  The sketch on the wall takes I don’t even know how long, Evan running around behind me doing.. something. I’ll need to borrow his cast after this much sketching, I barely moved to look around or at the time until was sure I was ready to call the sketch done. And damn does my wrist hurt. I should’ve taken a break forever ago, I think my arm might fall off. 

   “Are you taking a break?” I turn around expecting to see Evan sitting on the floor or fresh from a nap or something. No, he’s standing in the middle of my room, my empty laundry basket on his hip. I couldn’t say when the last time I’ve done laundry was; I just throw the dirty ones in with the clean at the end of the week and wash everything. Actually, the dirty clothes aren’t in their pile anymore either. 

   “If you’re done with that you might want to get s, uh, get some sleep. It’s getting late.” he doesn’t look tired, but I know I sure as hell am. I track down my phone to check the time. Jesus, almost three? That’s three hours before I get up for school and I haven’t taken anything to actually go to bed yet. 

   “Yeah, a little bit. Shit, I didn’t take you home.” I hadn’t thought about that, Evan was supposed to go home at some point; it would only be shady to take him now. He waves that off, setting down the basket to check his cell. 

   “Mom won’t be home tonight an, anyway. You go ahead I’m not t, not tired yet.” I don’t like having people in my room while I’m not here, let alone while I’m out cold. I eye him wearily. He wouldn’t do shit to me. 

   “I’m not really-” I yawn. Fine. I grab the bottle off my bedside take and shake out two gummies for on the way out to the bathroom; peeking out into the dark hallway before stepping out. It’s late, but I can’t be sure. I change and get ready in the bathroom, stepping carefully in the hall on my way to my room so the floor doesn’t even think about squeaking. I peer into my room, scanning for Evan. 

  I smile. He’s sitting on the floor, back leaned against my beanbag chair and chest rising and falling slowly. How can you fall asleep that fast? I hesitate for a second, looking between Evan and my bed. I drape a blanket over his body where he is, looking down at myself. My nightshirt hangs loosely around my middle but barely reaches around the tops of my thighs; rustling with the tight rise of my chest with every breath. It’s so quiet. I lean down, knee hitting the rug. I can feel Evan’s breath, puffing shallowly from his lips close enough to feel the warmth on my face. I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut before tilting my head closer to Evan; lips barely brushing against his skin- he shifts in his sleep, making me jerk back and tumble to the ground. 

  Evan is gone when I wake up, well past my alarm. I groan as I sit up, pressing a hand to the side of my chest to ease the spike of pain there. If I wasn’t already skipping, that’s reason enough for me. I’m not going to the nurse after keeling over in the hallway.    
I get dressed, cracking my bedroom door slowly. She won’t care I’m not going for longer than a minute but if she doesn’t see me that gets cut down to not at all. I think I can hear her in the kitchen, talking on the phone. I hope she’s cheating on dad again. I take my chances moving away from my door, the floor creaking loudly under my feet. 

   “Connor!” Evan slides around the corner, a wide smile spread across his face. He’s still in the outfit he came in yesterday, ruffled up from sleeping in the clothes all night. He takes me by the arm, fingers digging harshly into fresh scabs as he pulls me back with him. She is still in there waiting for us, hovering over some shit on the stove for whatever new diet she’s on. 

   “Oh Connor, sweetheart, you are up! Perfect timing, I’m-” “No thanks.” I scoff. I’m not taking anything from her. “Well you didn’t eat last night,” “Not with you.” I push past her, snatching my multicolored pill organizer off the counter and taking the whole thing with me on my way back to my room. 

   “You know you’re not allowed to take those into your room anymore young man!” she calls after me. “What are you gonna do, stop me?” I raise my voice, turning my head but not pausing on the way into my bedroom; slamming the door behind me. I knock back today’s morning pills with what’s left of a room temperature water bottle from my backpack, digging through the rest of the bag to find the last of what I brought to class for lunch yesterday. I’m supposed to eat first, but I can’t say I care that much. 

   “Hey Connor,” Evan comes in, making me jump and shove what I’m eating back into my back open. “is everything okay? That was kind of-” “That wasn’t bad.” Evan looks me over but decides to drop it, turning a circle to look around the room; probably trying to find where he left off last night. 

   “Here.” he picks up the stack of clean towels I’ve been hoarding in my clean laundry, pushing them into me and giving me a little shove towards the door. “Put those away and take a shower while you’re in there.” I let him kick me out of my own room, slinking out to the bathroom and locking the door behind me. I unlock the door after the towels are tucked into their place and lock it again, just in case. I breathe a full sigh of relief getting undressed, stretching both arms up over my head and pushing until I can feel everything again. 

  The water is hot, streaming down my skin and clearing the way for me to breathe clearly again. I usually try not to take too long, but I can’t help but bask in the steam for a while. My hair looks longer than usual when I step out, wrapping a clean towel tightly around my chest to brush out my hair when it’s still wet. Not too much, but I like to ring and comb out the water to dry faster; roughing it up with the towel doesn’t do anything good for my curls. I do towel off the rest of me so I can get dressed, rushing to get my clothes back on and cover up. 

  The hot water irritated some fresher skin, making spots along my wrists puff back up and turn red. It’s fine, I don’t bother to do anything with it, they can sort themselves out like they always do. The fabric of my long sleeves is a little scratchy over the tender skin, but I can handle it.    
My hair is still damp when I clear out, hurrying across the hall to my room. The window is still open, a nice breeze coming through. Evan is standing on my bed, balanced precariously with his bad arm leaned on the wall and some of my drawing chalk in his other hand. His shirt sleeve is covered with chalk that he’s smudged off the wall already, and from the sound of it things aren’t going any better. 

   “What’re you doing?” he jumps, catching himself before he falls but dropping the chalk. Evan glances back at the chalky mess behind him and turns pink, stumbling over something to say. It’s not that bad. I can see the rough outline of a treetrunk, the branches spread out and splitting into large smudges. 

   “It’s not awful, here you’re getting caught on,” I hoist myself up to stand next to him, “this?” I swipe my sleeve through my wet hair to get rid of the smudging, looking down at what he’s working off of. “Okay, here, you’re looking at a digital piece and trying to recreate it by hand. That’s tricky to do.” I flip over his printout and sketch out something rough for him, Evan’s gaze over my shoulder the whole time. 

   “There, try that.” it’s a rough approximation, but the more simple the more Evan can do with it. Speaking of, I need to get on my own project. I start with a little mixing, swiping the paint across the back of my hand as I go. I paint myself enough to be vain but I’m never happy with the skin tone I make. 

   “Close enough.” I shrug, climbing up and putting myself to work. I always start with the skin since it’s harder to cover bleed over from other colors with it. It’s hard to paint over black, so I went ahead and went over the space with white last night, leaving it outside the outline for extra room. I carve in the lines on my palm, dipping into a darker color and slashing the brush across both my wrists. It’s an approximation, but pretty close.

  The whole room smells like acrylic, and if the window wasn’t open Evan and I would probably be high on it by now. I outline myself in gold that I watered down with white, giving it a glow, and halo around full gold to bring in the extra white around the edges. 

  Evan finished his drawing, jumping down and passing on paint to give himself a minute to sit down. My wrist is starting to hate me again, but the painting is clearing my head. With every lean my chest spikes with a twinge of pain, but I leave myself to dry and load up to start the second part. Evan is a little more pale than me, standing out more over the black behind us and not particularly complimented by his powder blonde hair. The paint smell is almost dizzying after two full body portraits, but damn they look good. At some point Evan joined me again, trying his own hand at painting his own piece. 

   “Jesus,” I shake my hand out, “two all nighters in a row.” I shake my head, looking over to the window and the orange light flooding in through it. I guess I got lost In the acrylic and forgot to take a break. 

   “Is that me?” Evan catches sight of the finally finished piece. He looks good, laid out in an arc opposite of mine on the wall so we form a sort of long oval together; his arms out flat with both palms up, our wrists laid out beside each other in the middle. Both disturbed by darker slashes across the skin, reaching up to the half sleeves of the powder blue shirt I put him in. 

  My own portrait is shirtless two straight, deep cuts gouged into my chest. I put the shadow of wings behind us, smaller than I usually use in my pieces. Mine are black, outlined carefully in gold to set them away from the background and mirrored directly by Evan’s white ones. 

   “I think we look alright.” I twist to sit down on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. I was standing for way too long up there. 

   “It’s awesome!” Evan joins me, the bed bouncing under us and his baby blue’s shining brightly up at me. “How, how’re you doing?” I.. don’t know. I got so caught up in what I was doing I just lost track of everything else. 

   “Nice. I think I feel more.. peaceful.” other than the nauseating scent of acrylic hanging in the air, I feel pretty good. I accomplished something kind of huge, and it’s been a while since I’ve been out of my comfort bubble like this. 

   “Well… If you have it in you I could, uh, use some help?” he laughs a little, like he’s nervous to ask. “Well I’m already covered in paint, let’s see it.” I lean back, looking up at what Evan did by himself. It’s a little messy, but not bad. He did a quick dry white base inside his sketch and started the trunk. It’s a little streaky towards the middle, which might be what he got hung up on. 

   “Here,” I pull him up again, giving him the brush again. “It’s streaking as you go into the centre, so you’ll want to do more like this.” I take Evan by the wrist, wrapping my fingers around his to gently guide his hand. He wobbles, my free hand catching him at the waist to keep him steady.    
I help him with the spiral of the trunk, and continue with him up the tree to the colorful tips of the outstretched branches. Evan’s back presses against my chest, the side of his head tilted against my cheek. He’s relaxed, letting me lead his hand along the lines of his sketch. I add on a semi glitter top coat over the leaves, making them shine as a nice finishing touch. 

   “There, how’s that?” I drop my voice to a whisper, lips close to Evan’s ear as I break the long set comfortable silence. He looks up at it, the beautiful rendition of the Tree Of Life that Evan drew himself painted to life. 

   “Wow.” he breathes, settling down our brush and pressing his palm to mine to take my hand; tugging me to sit down with him again in bed. “Do you like it?” Evan’s voice is hesitant, afraid of my answer, but still dying to hear it. I look up at the tree again, my chest feeling warm at the sight of the symbol. 

   “I love it.” my heart skips half a beat before I even move, more lurching forward than leaning towards Evan; pressing my lips softly to his cheek and pulling back again quickly. He looks surprised, eyes meeting mine before his gaze falls back to my lips. He bites his own, throat moving as he swallows. 

   “You missed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/2568
> 
> This is probably my favourite chapter I've written for this fic so far, I just.. like it
> 
> And hey, how would readers feel about some content in this fic that's more on the explicit side? Not overly, but some light nsfw? I have some written for the fic but I don't know if I should isolate it in its own chapter or just go ahead and leave it in where it is? Or skip it totally I guess
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey this chapter is just smut, so skip it if you want. You won't miss out on any plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this to not be graphic but.. ah well. I can't scrap it again. 
> 
> And hey! Sorry for no update last week! I scrapped what I had for this chapter at the last minute and wanted to rewrite it again.

  Evan is draped over me when I wake up, his fingers curled loosely on the curve of my chest and his breath hitting the back of my neck. I shift, careful not to move too much while I’m still being spooned. But it was enough, Evan’s hand flexing and skimming along the fabric of my shirt to find his bearings before squeezing slightly.   
   “Hey.” his voice is still laced with sleep, heavy and deeper than it usually is. He has a flirty kick in his tone that I’ve never heard from him before, but I’m not complaining. He pulls himself up closer to me, pulling my back against his chest and nuzzling me. Cuddly when sleepy, I’ll keep that in mind. I hum a soft response, not feeling like using my words just yet. Evan slides his fingers down my side, tracing my curves without any of my bulky clothes to hide them. My shirt runs out of fabric where it overlaps with my boxers, his fingers gliding over them and across my bare skin. He takes me by the hip and pulls me back against him, rolling his own.   
   “Well, hey to you too.” I laugh. Evan laughs into my hair, his breath tickling my neck as he buries his face against me. I don’t remember him being so close to me when we went to bed, but I can’t say I’m dissapointed. He’s cute, knees curled up into the curve of my own legs and an arm thrown over my side haphazardly. His fingertips trace around my thigh, snaking up just under the end of my boxers. “Woah,” I grab his hand, “take me out first before you try that again, Hanson.” he jerks back out of my loose hold. I can hear whatever he’s trying to say getting caught in his throat. As much as I don’t like getting grabbed at, I don’t think It warrants this. “Hey, hey, it’s cool.” I laugh at him, turning towards him to grab his wrist and half falling over him. I might as well go the whole way, reaching for Evan’s other wrist and pressing both into the pillow above him as I swing a leg up over him. My hair falls down to frame my face, making a curtain to protect my broad grin from any angle but Evan’s.   
  His face turns red, going full deer in the headlights under me and looking away. I can see his throat move when he swallows, eyes darting between me and where our legs are pressed together; just under the tent he’s pitching.   
   “For me?” I glide my fingers along the front of his boxers, pressing my palm down lightly. “Can I?” he nods tightly. Hmm. I repeat the question for a better answer. Evan vocalizes this time, giving me a hushed yes that I can take as good enough. I skip teasing him and peel back his underwear, wrapping a hand around his dick and pulling up along his shaft. Evan squirms, moving his hips and making a little noise at the back of his throat. But he nods at me again so I go on fondling him, rubbing my palm over his head and tracing my fingertips along his skin.   
  Evan is adorable, his shirt riding up on his stomach and his hands where I left them over his head, though I let go of him to stroke his cock with both hands. He’s biting his lip, his cheek pinching as he bites down harder on the skin in his mouth to keep himself contained. But, I can’t have that. I scoot down off Evan’s legs to push them apart, letting his thighs fall open and give me more room to settle down onto my elbows.     
  I lap at the base of his cock, dragging my tongue halfway up his shaft and sucking at his skin wetly until I finally hear him whine above me. There, was that so hard? I pull up to his tip, teasing it and flicking my tongue across it. I sink down over Evan’s dick, lips stretching around his shaft as I swallow around him. I hear him gasp lightly, fingers brushing against my head before pulling back again; leaving his hand hovering there.   
  I drag back up, licking my lips as I look at Evan again. If he could blush any more, he would. I take his hand and press it to the back of my head, encouraging him to push on me when I go down on him again. He does, lightly at first before getting used to it. His fingers thread carefully into my hair to pull. I moan around his dick, giving Evan the last bit of confidence he needed to shove me down the length of his shaft jerkily. I help him with the rhythm, bobbing my head and running the flat of my tongue along his skin and letting Evan decide how fast he wants me to go.   
  His hips twitch, pushing the head of his cock further down my throat; hands pressing down at the back of my head to hold me still, fucking my mouth shallowly. His fingernails dig harshly into my scalp, palms still pushing down on me almost enough to make me gag. Evan moves, both arms wrapping around the sides of my head to almost cradle it; moving me half onto my knees to thrust straight forward into my throat, half curled around me. I can still breathe, albeit choppily with the harsh pushes of Evan’s hips. I can feel his cock twitch, just barely, swallowing harder around him but instead of jizz air floods into my mouth as he sharply pulls me off him completely. Evan is panting, his forehead glazed with a sheen of sweat and eyes blown wide. He’s trying to say something to me, grabbing lightly at me.   
   “I, I want to see your face.” I move back with him, letting Evan grab me around the waist and press us closer together, chest to chest. He nuzzles his face into my neck, biting my skin and tugging it with his teeth before sucking at the spot. He feels a little frazzled, too much energy in him at once to tell him what he should really be doing with it, and me. I take him by the hip and roll against him, reminding him that he probably wants to get off instead of trying to vore me.   
  He rocks against me, moving me with himself to push his dick up against me, tugging at my underwear to get past it and rub against my own wet skin. I suck in a harsh breath, the head of his cock pushing me apart and squishing wetly. I jerk back, sliding my hand down Evan’s shaft and redirecting him to squeeze his cock between my thighs instead, still pressed against the soaked seam of my boxers which he gladly ruts against.   
  I hear what sounds like a strangled version of my name in a moan next to my ear, Evan’s hips jerking against me one last time before he comes against me; coating my underwear and inner thighs with his thick spunk in spurts. He breathes heavily against my throat, panting near the already bruising skin there. One of his shaking hands bumps against my stomach, picking at the elastic band of my boxers until I take it in my own to keep him from going there. This is more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1248 
> 
> This isn't my best pornfic I'll say but It's not awful, the last half is better than the first I think. 
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild imagery of past self harm in this one, nothing worse than other chapters
> 
> We love a good self realisation chapter
> 
> Happy Purim to anyone reading on the day I'm updating!!

  I don’t say anything to Evan on the ride back to his house, knuckles white on the steering wheel until I see him close the door behind him and I can let out a sigh of relief. I don’t.. know what to do now. Everything seems blurred around me, rain falling on my windshield gently while I drive. I’m glad it’s early, because I’m not even all that sure I’m on the right side of the road. All I know is where I’m going, and that I’m getting there on muscle memory alone. 

  I pull up across the first row of parking spots, leaving the keys in the truck. They’re closed anyway. The wind pushes my hair into my face, large raindrops hitting my skin and soaking into my hair as I walk, taking strides out onto the shaky dock without missing a step. I pass all the boats still docked, standing at the very edge and letting the platform sway under me in the wind. I look down.

  The water is lapping up against the wood, splashing towards me but not high enough to quite reach me. I used to stand out here and think about jumping in, load up my hoodie with rocks and just go straight down. But that’s not why I’m here. I just.. want to be here. But not here. I look down at the dark water again, my reflection gazing back up at me.

  My boat is where it always is, bobbing in the lake and tapping against the pier gently with every wave. It’s still an easy step over, the knot I tied falling apart when I touch it. I wasn’t allowed in the boy scouts, sue me. It’s not a smooth sail, water lapping into my boat and soaking through my jeans. The wind picks up, making every turn hard and throwing rain into my face while I’m trying to see where I’m going.  I drag my ride completely onto shore to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere, resting my hand against my tree now that I’ve finally gotten to it. 

  The long treads of leaves sway in the wind, but it’s so much more scerene than the rest of the small wood around me. I let out a heavy breath, sliding down beside my tree and leaning against it. 

   “What am I doing here?” I look up, but that’s just worse. I row across a lake in a storm, and now I’m talking to a tree. What, is it going to turn into Pocahontas and I’ll get meaningful life advice from my dead tree mother? But, my alive and real mother is still at home; who knows what she’d say. 

   “God imagine that. ‘Mom I just almost had sex with a boy and I don’t know what to do’ she’d have a stroke.” I’d sooner die than ask that woman for emotional advice. But without that, what do I have? She pulled me out of therapy because I ‘didn’t need it’ anymore and I’m only still on my meds because she thinks after long enough they’ll make me normal again. No, this is the last thing she wants.

  What am I doing, what am I so afraid of? Of all people, shouldn’t I know how I feel? I’m not confused, I know what I’m doing and what I want but.. why? Why, when I look down at myself do I see something I didn’t before?

  I shrug off my we jacket to see my arms, beige band aids covering both my wrists. When Evan saw he insisted, peeling and placing each one himself. I touch my skin, gliding my fingers down the bumpy patterns of white; some raised and others level with the patches of clear skin still left. The texture of the band aid is foreign and rough, tugging at the hair on my arm every time we move. 

  I rip one off, pulling my wrist sharply and watching red begin to form where it was stuck to me almost immediately. I’m allergic to these anyway. I peel off all of them, tossing them into the wind one by one. My arm looks worse than it did this morning, a flaming red rash now circling each pink slit across my skin. He meant well. I’ll never be able to get the look on Evan’s face out of my head. I’m going so hard on him to do better and let it go and do better, but I’m not taking my own advice. I’m not doing myself any favors. 

  Beads of rain land on my skin, sliding around the curve of my arm and leaving trails behind for the next to follow. This is the kind of shit Evan gushes about; rain and cleansing and beautiful things that only last a second. And he dreams about seeing the cherry blossoms bloom and fall in person some day because beautiful things don’t last forever. I shake off my arms, wiping my hands on my equally as wet hoodie to handle my phone; barely getting it to recognise me so I can scroll my thumb across it, streaking water over the screen. 

  Evan is so pretty, sunlight streaked across his skin and a smile across his face- in the middle of laughing in most of the test shots I have on my cell. His shoulders rolled up and his back arched, head thrown back. I don’t remember why we were laughing now, only the warm feeling in my chest that lingered for the rest of the night. 

  It’s stupid to say but he smells like sunshine, warm and light and almost sweet but not quite there. He’s like sunlight, making me want to bask and soak in all his energy. But too bright for me to keep myself from shying away. I can still see his face clearly, the night at his house when I ran away from him; just last night after he kissed my, eyes blown wide and almost sparkling. He’s too good for me. Too bright, too innocent, too good for someone like me. But the way Evan looks at me, like there’s nothing else in the world.

  Evan, the last person that would hurt me, looks at me like that and I’m still trying to run away from him. Trying being the operative word here. And for what? He knows what he likes and he knows what he wants and no matter how many sunflower boys I try to set him up with, he’s already got eyes for me. And I’ve got them for him, god I can barely get him off my mind. I want to help him so desperately; I want him so badly. 

  When Evan told me that beautiful things are meant to die, I could see it in his eyes. Life is beautiful and he didn’t want his to last either. Like ice sculptures, and the cherry blossoms. And I could tell, I was never going to convince him any different. But.. I looked Evan in the eyes, and took him by the shoulders and I told him,

    _“But doesn’t it? The cherry blossoms come back every year- the petals fall but the tree doesn’t die. Ice melts into water, artworks lasts for hundreds of years. You can experience beauty for a fraction of a second, but doesn’t mean it ceases to exist.”_

_    “You aren’t a flower and life isn’t supposed to be beautiful. It’s hard and it hurts and it feels like the weight of the whole world is bearing down on you, waiting for you to snap. And it’s light and full and a miracle in itself. Life is worth more than the fraction of it that’s easy. You’re worth more than what people want to see. More than a flower, more than what you’re afraid of.”  _ and damn it, so am I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1310
> 
> ngl the bit at the end made me tear up writing it
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date of upload isn't Evan's canon birthday but it is in the fic universe!
> 
> And, if you noticed this fic is part of a series now, I wrote a oneshot based on the universe this fic takes place in! So the connor and evan there are the same as this story(i'm explaining this too much but)

  Crepe paper has such an awful texture. It crinkles as I use it, rubbing coarsely against my palms with every toss of the roll. I take a step to the side, catching the wad of cheap streamers again and gauging how much room is left. Not enough. I stretch the roll out and cut it, taping the end snugly to the wall. Hopefully that’s enough of those; the rainbow pattern is cute but I hate these with a deep passion. Why bother putting this shit up just to tear it down and throw it away? This is why the air around us will choke us to death some day, if we-

   “Connor, could you give me a hand with this?” I set aside my wad of streamers and half jog across the room, taking both ends of the banner Heidi is holding. 

   “Where to?” she thinks on it, then directs me to the overhang just above her head that she couldn’t reach. I get it up without a problem. She looks at it for a moment before clapping her hands in approval. 

   “Perfect!” Heidi can handle the rest of her part alone, including blowing up almost a whole room of balloons. I offered to do a few, but she insisted. The room is coming together nicely, colorful decorations pinned to the walls and balloons scattered across the carpet; one already popped after startling their cat. 

   “So Connor, I’ve been meaning to ask, about you and Evan-” I look around quickly for the first thing that can get me away from that conversation. Through the tiny gap we left in the curtains, I see a Jeep just rounding into the driveway. 

   “I think Jared is here!” I duck out the front door, directing the car to park next to mine and Heidi’s so they don’t box me in. All three of them are here, a wave thrown at me from Leah as she herds both her boys into the house. My sister shouldn’t be far behind them- or she better not be. Funny, for someone who would die if she was late for a practice she sure is late to pretty much everything else. 

  I swing open a door on my truck, sliding the heavy wrapped box off the passenger seat and walking it carefully inside. Can’t have that in there when I pick up the birthday boy. There’s already a pile started, so I just add mine. I can see Heidi look at me, wanting to pick up where we left off. 

   “I’m on pickup duty, so I think I’ll go now.” I gesture back towards the door, slinking back out again to avoid that mess. I’m not really a ‘meet the parents’ type, so I’m already over the comfort zone on talking to Evan’s mom. We aren’t even official or anything, I can’t tell that woman her only son is my friend with benefits. We can tell her after something happens. Well, something has happened- a couple times. After something new happens. 

  I pass Zoe on my way out of the driveway, her girlfriend’s shitty car pulling out to let me past. I roll down the window to flip her off, but Alana is in the drivers seat. She got the message anyway. 

  Evan is still at the library when I pull up, waiting outside for me like he’d rather be anywhere else. They are pretty busy for a Saturday afternoon, but I know very well Evan sits in the corner of periodicals to do his work so no one bothers him. He still struggles to get into the truck, pulling up with the handle and almost out of breath when he lands his ass in the seat. 

   “Hey,” he smiles at me, turning his bag over into his lap and digging through it, “I found something I think you’ll actually like for tonight-” Evan pulls a movie out of his backpack, flipping it over and reading off the back for me while I drive. He goes on about how he loves the main actor, and highlights about the screenplay. 

  I like just listening, taking us around the block a few times before actually turning towards his place. A little extra time for them to get ready. Evan didn’t notice, so it’s all good. I’ve got my fingers crossed he doesn’t freak out when we surprise him, thinking back to Ross and that poor, poor cake. 

   “and then- after he throws away his whole life he still won’t stop and goes to look on his own; absolutely sure his lover is still out there-” I’ve seen the movie before, but I wouldn’t dare rain on his parade like that. He grabs my attention at a stoplight to point at something on the box, giving me trivia on the costumes from the movie and the makeup they used on the characters. He’s cute. I turn into the driveway, and get almost all the way to the house before Evan looks up. 

   “Wh-what’s with all the cars?” I box Heidi’s car in, she’s not going anywhere. Maybe we should’ve parked off behind the house or in the trees or something so Evan wouldn’t see.  Too late now. I usher him inside, swinging open the door in front of Evan for his friend and family to pop up from shitty hiding places. The whole thing reminds me of being ten, but it’s cute and Evan’s face lights up as he takes it in-the streak of rainbow pattered streamers across the crown molding of the room. There’s a fair spread of presents on the coffee table, all wrapped though some better than others. Mine is, of course, perfect. The cake is in the kitchen, but I’ve seen it and the icing matches the theme perfectly. 

  I give Evan a gentle push inside, reminding him to move. He stumbles in ahead of me, still struggling to come up with something to say. At least we didn’t scare the shit out of him. Even Zoe didn’t bail, coming through with our deal. Yeah, I bribed her to come, but it’s fine. Evan gets the jam out of his throat to choke out a thank you, loud and with a crack in the middle, and honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

   “This is for me?” I pat his shoulder, sweeping his attention up to the ‘happy birthday  Evan’ banner pinned on the wall. 

   “All of it.” I ruffle his hair, laughing at him. “Seventeen, we’ve gotta celebrate.” I give him a friendly push, stepping back to let Heidi wish her kid a happy birthday without hovering like a creep. Eighteen; Evan doesn’t look only two years younger than me,  but here we are- his face red with embarrassment from all the attention. I worm my way over to the couch and take a seat, trying to set myself away from the crowd. It’s not that many people, but I need space. 

  Jared is sat on the other end, throwing a sign that I don’t know off the top of my head towards me.  I hold up my hand and drag my finger across my palm, and wait for him to try again with something I might understand. He resolves to gesture between me and Evan, and clap his hands together. I cover my mouth before I laugh, hair falling in my face. I get out a no, but my hands aren’t all that steady. He waves me over, taking both my hands and moving them into the sign he made before. I don’t know if I’ll use that one. 

   “Come on,” he leans towards me, “not gonna bend your boyfriend over on his birthday?” I don’t know how to break it to the guy that it would be the other way around, if I was even close to being able to handle that.

   “Uh, Connor, do you want,” Evan is holding a piece of his rainbow streaked cake, apparently after winning the argument over singing with his mom. 

   “Pass.” he sits next to me, and Jared leaves us be. I make sure not to watch him eat, thinking about it and dropping my arm over Evan’s shoulders. He shuffles to lean up against me, hair tickling my face. 

   “Hey,” I press my lips to the top of his head, “happy birthday.”

  Evan’s mom knows how to keep a party moving, pulling everyone into their small living room as soon as the last plate was clear. He keeps his seat next to me, unwrapping each present carefully and stumbling over a thank you until he’s reminded to keep going. A card from my sister, a game from Jared that was inside four boxes- all wrapped, and a cute novelty journal from his mom accompanied by a set of colorful pens. And…

   “Connor,” Evan looks at me before he’s finished unwrapping mine, “these are so-” he bites his lip, pulling the rest of the wrapping off the box and peeking inside to make sure that’s what it is. 

   “Hey, what good are rich parents if I don’t use their card every once and a while?” I pat the box in his lap, a corner of the weighted blanket inside it poking out from when he opened it. I already unpacked it, so Evan can just dump it out of the box and use it right away. I didn’t get the heaviest one, since he’s still just a little guy. He sets it to the side, pressing a kiss to my cheek before I can move away. 

  Heat rushes to my face, but conversation around us doesn’t even stutter. I smile at Evan,  feeling a little more bashful than I should. I see Heidi hold up a camera, fiddling with the settings. Aand that’s when I dip. I take pictures, I don’t get get pictures taken of me. 

   “Hey Ev, let me take some of this stuff up to your room.” I run away before I can get pulled into a picture, stacking everything up on top of the blanket box and hefting it up into my arms. The walk up the stairs isn’t too bad, but the bedroom door gives me some trouble. I get in without dropping everything, plopping the heavy box onto Evan’s bed. The room is bathed in light, the pale green paint on the walls making the small space seem bigger. He has plants crammed onto both windowsills, the space completely crowded with both seedlings and fully grown plants. I don’t want to snoop, but I check out the plants; touching a leaf on what looks like a bonsai tree gently. I’ve always been awful with growing things, even succulents and cacti die within the month after I bring them home. Maybe I shouldn’t be touching these ones too much, in case I’m cursed or something. 

  The view from the window is beautiful, facing out towards the trees. He might live way out away from everything else in town, but it sure does look nice. The sun is still up, just dipping below the tops of the trees and casting a glow over them. That would be a nice shot, if I brought my camera. 

  The door squeaks when it opens, the hinges squealing to announce Evan’s entrance behind me. He looks surprised to see me, like I’d climb out the window or something. But as far as his place goes, I’d be more likely to climb in that way. 

   “Hey,” I throw Evan a smile, meeting him at the door to hook my arm around his back; pulling him in to brush a kiss across his lips. “Have a good time?” he nods, burying his face into my hoodie. A party can’t be a party until the cooldown afterwards. No matter how many people, I always catch Evan taking a deep breath after we go out. 

   “But you didn’t have to..” he’s still on the blanket, and I knew he’d put up a fuss about it. 

   “I threw away the receipt.” I’m not worried about him using it, or my parents noting the hundred bucks I spent on it. “Besides, it’s barely from me anyway.” I take a step back, pushing Evan gently away and pulling a small wrapped box from my pocket. “This is from me.” I offer the present to him, watching him take it and turn the box in his hands. 

  Evan unwraps it as carefully as the others, pulling the wrapping off like a sleeve to reveal an oblong box underneath, the brand name across the top in metal textured bold font. The top pulls off, a blue pocket knife folded inside; Evan’s name engraved along the side in silver script. He takes it from the box, turning the knife in his palm and sliding his finger along his own name. 

   “Here, it’s spring loaded. Just..” I cover Evan’s hand with mine, guiding the knife into position and pressing his finger to the trigger; helping him release the blade. It springs out stiffly, the trigger still new, the blade itself the same blue as the handle. A trail of serrations cover half the blade, the smooth curve ending with a hook at the tip. I can’t tell if Evan likes it, the other boy still in stunned silence. 

   “I, uh,” I swallow. Come on, I practiced this. “I can’t have a boyfriend who can’t protect himself when I’m not around.” my pulse roars in my ears, Evan’s eyes moving from the blade in his hand up to me- widening slightly. “If you want..” my voice drops, in hopes that maybe he doesn’t hear me at all. He looks at our hands, still together around the knife, and up to meet my eyes; nodding shyly at first but then again more confidently. 

  He kisses me before I get the chance, tugging me down by the front of the shirt to reach my lips. I flip the knife closed and toss it, picking Evan up around the waist and pressing his back to the door behind him. He drags his fingers through my hair, pulling as he goes to make me choke back a-

   “Connor?” Heidi knocks on the door, “hun can you move your truck? You’ve got me boxed in.” I let out a harsh breath, holding it for a second to keep my voice from breaking. 

   “Yeah!” I choke out, looking up at Evan and almost losing it. He’s biting his lip, face red as he keeps in laughter. “I’ll be right back.” we’ll pick that up later. I can take all the time I want with my boyfriend. Man, do I love the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/2440
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback! And if you have any other requests for side-fics off this story let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the impromptu hiatus- I tried to make this one extra long and self indulgent to make up for it. Plus, later this week I've got another extra story to post(maybe two)!
> 
> This was a little overdue

   “Connor! We have school tomorrow!” Evan hisses, trying to yell at me without actually raising his voice. He’s leaning out of his bedroom window, looking torn between trying to wave me down and holding onto the sill. His hands don’t budge, watching me swing up the tree just off from his bedroom. High school musical style, but without the convenient balcony.

   “We don’t have to.” I swing one arm over the other, pulling both my feet from the branch under me to dangle freely over the ground. This is fun. A look of panic flashes across Evan’s face, teeth digging into his bottom lip and worrying the skin there. “I bet I can do one hand, wanna see?” I grin evilly at him, tightening my grip to let one hand go.

   “Fine! _Please_ let me unlock the door for you.” I was hoping I’d get to do it first, but I navigate back down to drop from the tree a little closer to the ground. Damn do my arms hurt now, I need to work out more. Evan opens the back door for me, doing his best to try and look pissed but a smile still poking through.

   “Come on, you thought it was cool. Coming to land on your balcony and serenade you.” he rolls his eyes.

   “I don’t have a balcony. You would’ve woken up my mom falling and dying in our yard.” he glances around after mentioning Heidi, like she’d appear around the corner or something. Which would be fun, but Evan would probably have a heart attack on the spot.

   “Heidi _loves_ me.” I closer the door, twisting the lock in place and repeating the motion with my wrist again.

   “Yeah, when you aren’t sneaking in on nights she’s off!” Evan pulls me out of the kitchen and up to his room, painstakingly making sure both us of are completely quiet on our way there.

   “Mom doesn’t care what I do when she’s not here, but right now she is. You have to be quiet so she can sleep.” I hold both hands up in surrender, still laughing at least a little. He’s so anal about not bugging her, I guess I’m not used to being so considerate for other family members.

   “I’ll try my best.” I promise, dropping my hands to grab Evan’s. He finally smiles at me, spreading as I press a kiss to his cheek. It’s been a while, and I can’t bring myself to be shy about it anymore- watching Evan’s face turn pink is enough to soothe my nerves and then some.

  All of Evan’s plants are stuck in precarious places to open up the windowsill, the pane still open and letting a cool breeze sweep through the room. At least none of them fell, though some of the ones on the bookshelf don’t look too far off. I save one, careful not to bump the bookshelf for fear of the rest tumbling to the ground. I doubt that would add to my case here.

   “Want me to close this?” I set down the succulent to reach up to slide the window shut, Evan’s hum of approval giving me the clear to close it. I lock the top of the glass, twisting the knob around and back to push it into place again. All the plants go right back to their places, the leaves trembling slightly in my hands as I carry them. There, the bed and bookshelf are clear again.

  Evan’s blinds don’t go all the way down, stopping just short of the tops of his green children so he doesn’t have to move them every night. I guess since he doesn’t have any close neighbors it doesn’t really matter. I join Evan on the bed, bouncing on the mattress and shoving him lightly; knocking our shoulders together and toppling him over on his side. He laughs, pushing up at me and grabbing my shoulders to pull me down with him. I lay with him, grinning at Evan as his laughter dies down; leaving his face red and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He sighs, propping himself up next to me to thread his fingers down my hair.

   “So, what’s the occasion?”?

   “What, I can’t just.. drop by to see my boyfriend?” I take his hand, leaning up to press a kiss to his still smiling lips; making Evan giggle and shake his head.

   “You _can_ , but it’s midnight on a Wednesday.” he has a fair point.

   “Alright, you got me. We’ve got plans tomorrow.” a brief look of panic washes over Evan’s face, trying to remember any plans we made for tomorrow already. “Well, we do now.” he relaxes, but rolls his eyes at me.

   “You can’t make plans without me, what if I don’t show up?” I snort. “So, what’re we doing?” oh, I wish this one could be a surprise. That’s usually enough for him, but even if it _was_ his idea I’ll give him a couple hours of prep.

   “D’you still want me to draw you?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, waiting for Evan’s face to turn red in remembrance of what he asked me to do. It’s been a while, and honestly it’s due time for me to break out the brushes and get Evan on my set. “I’ve already got the studio all set up, I just need a model..” he buries his face into my shirt, nodding when I can’t see him. Nice. I ease Evan off me, hopping up to stretch. Ugh, my whole body is killing me. But that’s not new.

  Evan is still in his pyjamas, a baggy shirt hanging over his boxers but leaving his legs bare. I guess I’ll match his style. I mostly undress, unzipping my sweatshirt last and dropping it onto Evan’s floor with my other clothes. My shirt ends just at my waistline, not covering any further than the elastic band of my boxers. They’re both black, my sleeves falling past my wrists and over most of my hands. I run my palm down the flat of my chest, insecurity building up at the back of my throat without even making myself vulnerable. Which I won’t be doing tonight.

   “Ready to go back to bed?” the bedsheets are already ruffled up, and it’s already pretty late, so Evan was probably asleep when I got here. I wouldn’t want to keep him from his beauty sleep. I get a nod, but let Evan crawl back under the covers before I flip the switch on him. The window is letting in some moonlight from outside, enough to help me get to bed and curl around Evan. I can feel his heart beat through his chest, pulling me into sleep quickly.

* * *

  Heidi still wakes Evan up in the morning, pounding her hand against the bedroom door and calling his name. I jerk awake before he does, hair falling into my face as I fly straight up. Evan is working on it, letting his mom knock on the door until he finally gets his bearings enough.

   “Yeah, I’m up!” he shouts, sleepily but enough to keep the door on its hinges. I realize that I’m here in the morning all the time, but I’ve never really been around during all this. I guess my house isn’t much better; this is just noise, not shouting. Evan falls over onto me, laying his head on my shoulder and smiling drowsily up at me.

   “Morning.” I can’t just not kiss him, moving to lean over him and pressing our lips together just so. Evan smiles against me, curling both arms around my neck and tilting his head back to laugh. He might be cute, but that won’t stop me from using that vulnerable pose against him. Evan squirms, giggling as I kiss his neck and find a spot well above his collar to bite.

  “Hey!” he worms out of my arms, and I let him climb up to sit across my lap. He stops there, looking at me. “You’re way too pretty.” Evan leans in, lips barely brushing mine when there’s another knock at the door.

   “Evan, you’d better not be in bed again! Connor’s already here, you’ll both be late!”

   “I’m almost ready mom, don’t worry about it!” I hold my breath, struggling not to laugh. Heidi takes that, reminding Evan to have a good day and that she’s working late tonight. Doesn’t she work late every night? Anyway, she didn’t burst in on our homoerotic shenanigans, but she did kill the mood a little. Evan drags himself out of bed to take a shower, offering me his closet if I don’t want to wear yesterday’s clothes again. I might as well. His jeans aren’t my size, and even if they were the guy is a head shorter than me.

  Evan has an impressive collection of polo's for someone who doesn't play golf, but those have never looked all that flattering on my chest. The buttons give more reference to flat vs rounded than my self confidence can take. I pull off my own shirt, stretching in the middle of the gesture. My back is killing me. The studio is too hot to layer, and I pick out the only black shirt Evan has at first; just to see that it has a stupid glow in the dark depiction of Tweety Bird across the front.

  The next best thing is a dark navy blue, short sleeved but it’s at least not a polo. My wrists are healed over, still pink in a few patches where I’ve been scratching at them, but enough for staying in all day.

  The house is empty, so I venture downstairs to grab a glass of water. I bothered to bring my meds so I’d might as well take them. Evan’s cat meows at me, walking in front of me and nearly tripping me every other step on my way to the kitchen. This is why we don’t have any pets. I sneeze.

  By the time I get back to Evan’s bedroom, he’s getting ready. I walk in before he’s fully dressed, pulling a shirt down over his still wet skin. I won’t bother to warn him about how hot the studio gets, I doubt he’ll notice.

   “Ready?” Evan jumps, turning sharply towards me and breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. And I thought I was skittish.

   “Yeah.” I grab my bag and my boyfriend’s hand in one swoop, already feeling that shot of excitement. I’ve been painting Evan without a good reference for a while now, after this I’ll really be able to get him on canvas. And that’s the only reason I’m excited.

  The ride into town isn’t long, the morning traffic already dying down to the few stragglers who don’t start at nine and kids that are late for class. The building is a funny shape, lined with a strip of windows straight up the middle of each wall. We’re on the third floor, all the way at the top, my extra bags making it a tight squeeze for both of us to fit in the little elevator.

   “Alright,” the lift opens straight into the studio, already flooded with early morning sunlight that bounces off the white room. Anything that isn’t a window is white, leaving a clean slate for backgrounds. “You go ahead while I set up; whatever you’re cool with.” Ideally, I’d love to shoot Evan in or near water but not being a model or anything I doubt he’d be psyched about going out and laying on the beach nude for an hour. These always look the most tasteful in black and white, but I’ll have to think on that. I’m shooting in full color for now.

   “Where do you want me?” I look up and almost choke. I’m not a professional, but I should at least kind of act like it here. So I try again, looking down to fiddle with my camera and looking back up at Evan. He’s standing over me, still holding his shirt and turning the fabric in his hands but the rest of his clothes already off to the side. I had some pose ideas, from previous shoots and books and whatnot, but I can’t think of a single one.

   “Right there.” I point my camera up at him from my spot on the floor, shuffling to find a perfect angle and snapping a picture of his form stretching up over the shot; shirt still hanging loosely from his hand. That’s a nice start.

  Evan and I both settle into the situation, starting on the floor with some tame shots. But how we got from sitting on the ground with a hand in his hair to me standing right over him laying down I’ll never know. He’s spread out just under me, one hand tucked under his head and the other reaching out to his side; gaze following that hand out of frame. The still low sun is casting his shadow out across the floor, and I wish I could get him and that in the shot without zooming out too much for this dramatic angle. I let Evan up off the floor, directing him over to the window instead; my favorite piece to get in as many shots as I can. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but after looking outside and making sure no one is in front of the building he pressed himself right up against the glass. The backlighting is a little strong, but I can even that out in post. The extra step is more than worth it.

  For the first time since we started I reach out to touch Evan, Guiding his arm out to stretch over his head; palm out towards the camera and the marred skin of his wrist turned out. His other hand tucked behind his waist, then up to mirror the other side instead. He rolls back his head, making half lidded eye contact with me. I swallow, taking a step back to fit his whole body into the shot.

  He looks angelic, taking my breath away. Nothing else we do tops that picture, even the obligatory Titanic inspired shot across the modeling cot. Clicking through the pictures we took, I’m impressed with both of us that we actually got a good shoot. One of if not the biggest one I’ve ever done in one sitting. I guess I just like staring at him, huh? Can’t blame me for that.

   “You’re beautiful.” I let it slip, making Evan’s face go red.

   “I’m sure you could make anyone look good,” he bites his lip, looking up at me shyly. “Is that all?” I swear he sounds dissapointed. It should be, but there’s one thing still stuck in the back of my mind… I shake my head, digging through the props and extras in the room and coming back to Evan with a length of thick rope.

   “If you don’t mind..” his eyes flick between me and the knot in my hands, throat working before he gives me a sound nod; offering me with his wrists.

  I’m careful, though there isn’t anything fresh to irritate on his skin. I tie him loosely, my fingertips brushing across his skin with every twist of the rope. It’s not an elegant tie, but it works. The dark loop sits gorgeously on his pale skin, making it hard for me to hold the camera steady enough to get good shots; his hands laid on his stomach and then up over his head. I could’ve worked with just this all day but that’s enough for today; I don’t think I could take any longer.

   “That’s all,” I pull the loop with one tug, tossing the rope off to the side. I’m feeling a little too distracted to bother with leaving the place the way we found it; the next person will just mess it up more. Evan smiles shyly at me, trying to peek at the pictures over my shoulder. I let him get dressed before sitting down to show some to him, though they’re a little unpolished without any editing.

   “Can I take pictures of you?” I swallow. If that’s not enough to make my heart stop-

   “Maybe another day.” I bite my lip, flicking off my camera to take a good deep breath. Evan leans over to kiss my cheek, saying something softly that I don’t get to hear over the rush of blood in my ears before tilting my face towards his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/2760
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback! And if you have any other requests for side-fics off this story let me know!


	12. Chapter 12

   “I’m absolutely free tomorrow.” Evan tells me again, and I’ve officially lost count of how many times it’s been since I asked. I shift, tilting my face so I can see his while he leans on me. There’s a whole couch, but he’s most comfortable with his head on my shoulder, and if that doesn’t make me feel like I could throw up with all the mushy feelings I don’t know what will.

   “You don’t have to be. I’ve been taking all your weekends, it’s cool if you want to actually see your house.” I can’t say when the last time Evan was at home for a whole day was. Between school and being attached to my hip, I’m starting to worry for his plants. I don’t mind, but if Evan and I spend too much more time together he’s going to start looking like me. More than he already does.

   “No, I wanna go out with you. Mom is supposed to be home this weekend and I don’t really want to talk to her.” okay, I get it now. I can’t help but feel bad about that. Evan’s having a good time, but all the time sitting in my closet can’t be doing a lot of good for his grades and I know Heidi cares about that. Evan’s phone vibrates against my leg, buzzing quietly between us while he grabs for it in his pocket without moving away from me. He silences his phone instead of answering it, letting it vibrate until it goes through to voicemail.

  I spare a glance to Evan, who hides his face into my shoulder. Hey, we’ve all got somebody we don’t want to talk to. I haven’t answered a call from my sister in months. His phone buzzes again, making a racket on the table where he’d tossed it. We sit in almost tense silence as the little thing keeps going off; barely any time between the second and third call. Finally there’s a lull, Evan’s cell still and quiet again. I’m ready to give a sigh of relief when mine lights up beside me. No ringer, but that’s just me.

   “It’s your mom.” I forgot I had her number. Evan shakes his head, hand shooting out but hesitating before he snatches it out of my hand. I’m… not sure about that one. But I’m going to run out of rings pretty soon if I can’t go one way or the other here. He’s looking up at me with those big eyes of his..

   “Yeah?” I pick up on the last ring, a relieved sigh filtering through the receiver.

   “ _Connor? Is Evan with you?”_ I glance over at him, then the clock. School is still in session, but if she’s calling she must already know we aren’t there..

   “Yeah, he’s here.” Ev looks up when I mention him, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s the one who wanted to leave early, this one isn’t on me.

   “ _Thank goodness.. I came for my conference but they couldn’t find him, and then he didn’t answer any of my calls- Where are you?”_

   “We’re at my place.” her voice stutters, apparently not hearing what she expected me to say. It’s not like she wouldn’t check if I said somewhere in the school since she’s _there_ right now.

   “Right. I’ll come and get him after.” Heidi’s voice is stiff, like she’s holding something back. She hangs up, the line going dead before I could find something appropriate to say. I lower my phone, casting my eyes to Evan; who’s shrinking back into the couch. I bite the inside of my cheek.

   “Evan-” “I’m sorry!” he ducks in his head, pulling his shoulders up and shouting from inside himself.

   “Hey, it’s alright, c’mere,” I coax him up, smiling at him as softly as I can. “I’m not pissed about it or anything. I wish your mom didn’t want to clock me now, but it’s not like I kidnapped you- leaving was your call.” he sighs, shoulders sagging and crashing over onto me. “But- you knew didn’t you?” he nods, looking away from me. I’m not sure where to go from here, I don’t want to be too hard on him. That’s enough for now. Evan is picking at the polish on his nails, flecks of black flying off and dissapearing on his same colored jacket. I think that one’s mine.

  “K, kiss me before she grounds me and cuts my, cuts my hair?” he laughs, smiling at me again when he picks up his head. I do, lifting his face gently and gliding my fingers through his shaggy hair that I apparently have to say my goodbyes to.

  His eyes are so clear right in front of my face, watering up with tears on the brink of spilling over onto his face. One splashes down his face and I press a kiss to the trail it leaves behind, making him giggle.

   “Don’t sweat, she’ll get over it. She’s your mom, they’re supposed to worry about shit like this.”

   “Yours doesn’t.” his voice is muddy from holding back tears, trembling slightly. I snort.

   “Yeah, well, she ain’t exactly my mom either. Cynthia doesn’t care for me, and it’s more than mutual.” his smile dips. “She does-” “Don’t.” it comes out a little too harsh, making my chest ache for snapping at him right now. The room falls silent, empty for once with Cynthia out at pottery or m=whatever it is she’s doing this week. The drive from school isn’t long this time of day, and I can only imagine Heidi is going to hurry here.

   “You need anything before you go? Some tea, a gram, a blow?” he cracks, laughing brightly.

   “Yeah, all of the above.” he sticks his tongue out at me, bumping my shoulder with his. I push back, starting a push fight that goes on until Evan grabs me; pushing me back and swinging a leg over to sit in my lap.

   “Checkmate.” he grins, still holding both my hands up over my head. I tilt my head, lips just brushing together when there’s a harsh rap on the door, the handle turning to find that we didn’t lock it. Evan tumbles off of me, disheveling himself more for Heidi as she steps through the door.

   “Evan Alexander Hansen,” oof, middle name? “what do you think you were doing leaving school early like that? It’s not even the middle of the day!” she raises her voice and I shrink back, trying to move myself out from between them without getting up to scurry away. “You know that I let you do what you want, but really; how could you possibly think that was okay! I really thought you knew better. With your grades going down and now this, I’m really starting to worry about you! What’s changed, Evan?” I catch the look she throws at me and I don’t blame her, I’m an easy out on this one; known delinquent on my fifth year of high school, her son’s new very openly gay boyfriend.

   “Don’t, don’t blame him mom.” she laughs, the opposition only seeming to make her more pissed off.

   “Well, Evan, it’s a little hard not to when-” “It was me! It’s all me, and how would you know! Why should you know what I should be doing when you barely even know me in the first place!” I’ve never heard him raise his voice, ever. Evan stands up, throat working as he swallows harshly. “I spent such a long time trying to be good so you would notice, and it just made things worse! So many years trying to be who you wanted me to be, and now neither of us really know who I am do we?” he didn’t stumble once, harsh and stiff backed like I’ve never seen him.

   “Evan, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I don’t like it. We’ll talk at home.” Heidi takes a step to the side, looking pointedly at Evan until he starts walking. He looks back at the door, trying to muster up a smile for me but missing the mark. God I feel bad.

   “Connor.” she addressed me tightly before going, shutting the door heavily behind her. It echoes through the house and seems to settle in my chest, my heart heavy and stomach twisted up inside me. I know that wasn’t all me- I have to know that. She might have noticed after me, but that look in Evan’s eyes… he’s been boiling for a long time. But being a catalyst… doesn’t feel any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wc/1435
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I take fic requests there along with any questions or feedback! And if you have any other requests for side-fics off this story let me know!


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